Will the flowers always be in bloom?
The world ceases turning, for all we know
As we hold each other so close
A soft wind brushes through the trees
Who politely applaud us
But the wind changes, and so do the leaves
Their deceit comes as less of a shock to you
And as the leaves red, so do we
Sticks, stones, and isolation
All these kill me less, dear
Than to see you in the arms of another