Sweet Nostalgia
Drifting like auburn leaves.
Lost in the faded yellow of scattered memories.
The bliss of sweet nostalgia.
Adventures long past, jokes barely remembered.
Cool autumn breezes and-no!
We must return to reality.
There is work to be done. Work that must be done. A last mark on the earth, the last gift to our children. An assurance that we will be remembered when are footprints no longer mark the sand and-
Sticky fingers in the middle of blistering summers.
Wayward boys and fairy wishes.
The magic of cardboard boxes...
Dancing in the rain.
The rushing.
The exhilaration of youth.
The wonders of- no! A lasting legacy, something solid, concrete. An eternal and everlasting monument-
The promise of a warm bed.
The scent of cottons sheets drifting-
Like auburn leaves
Lost in the faded yellow of scattered memories
Drifting like auburn leaves.
Lost in the faded yellow of scattered memories.
The bliss of sweet nostalgia.
Adventures long past, jokes barely remembered.
Cool autumn breezes and-no!
We must return to reality.
There is work to be done. Work that must be done. A last mark on the earth, the last gift to our children. An assurance that we will be remembered when are footprints no longer mark the sand and-
Sticky fingers in the middle of blistering summers.
Wayward boys and fairy wishes.
The magic of cardboard boxes...
Dancing in the rain.
The rushing.
The exhilaration of youth.
The wonders of- no! A lasting legacy, something solid, concrete. An eternal and everlasting monument-
The promise of a warm bed.
The scent of cottons sheets drifting-
Like auburn leaves
Lost in the faded yellow of scattered memories
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