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