Warm spring rain on a tin roof
When I'm out after dark alone,

Snow-muffled tires of a car passing by
When I'm little and tucked in at home,

A song sparrow's voice in the morning
From somewhere high in the trees,

A brook's hoarse roar when the snow melts
And wind in the evening leaves,

The crackling coals of a campfire
The smack of a ball on a bat,

A chainsaw deep in the forest
As I drift away on my nap:

Sounds that bring life to life,
From childhood 'til I turn gray:

If I weren't here to hear them
Would they still sound the same way ?