All the things we put off until tomorrow
And the worries we let linger another day
Just the little things child, don't fret
Somewhere we each get lost along the winding way
Somehow we refuse to find the words to say
Be still child, all troubles will pass in time
Listen and let lay, set it off for a faraway someday
But what of those things that don't fade away?
What of moments left to linger and laid to waste?
Don't fret child, be still in times of trial
Like the rest you hold to hope that tomorrow never comes