It's the same old grey days
I sit around watching time pass by
Wondering when it'll be my time
Listening to the rustling of the big oak

The pages of my life quickly flip by
So much to remember
Before the death puts out my last ember
Of willingness to live

And as the sun so beautifully shines
In the early morning sky
No tears fall, no sad thoughts, I won't cry
Slowly drifting in the wind under the big oak