When I was seven
I skinned my knee
On the ground of which I stepped
Playing football with Him

Dear memories

The ground to which I trusted
Drew on with chalk
Now it had betrayed me
With its hard, thick crust of rock

Dear memories

My utopia of snakes
That I'd catch with Him
And when they'd escape
We'd simply try again

Dear memories

To that of which I would always trust
To catch me when I fall
Even without thanks
He's always there to call

Dear memories

When I was seven I skinned my knee
And looked to him to help me heal
And even though he isn't here
I know He'll always be there to catch me