Behind the glass a leaf is falling
Carried by a gentle sigh
A dog is walked, a lawn is watered
But what am I? Forgotten

A golden frame for an aching pain
I'll swallow, in a quiet room
While outside the flowers bloom
As they would anyway

The sick are brave and extra loving
I'm none of that, I'm just sick and tired
The children play without a warning
The trees are yawning, but then its quiet

A pouring rain washes away
Tomorrow and its every word
All its faces flaunt concern
Cause what if it did?
And the storm persists for many years
And I'll spend my days
As though it would, anyways

Sometimes I get choked...
Counting my prayers in a holy sense of disarray
Cause I spend my days
Wishing things could ever change
As if they could, anyways