You all complain.
But as my days in this house are numbered,
as the oaks begin to catch sunlight as if it were just for me,
I see now, more than ever before, that this is the most beautiful place.

I know by now you must be bored, but you don't see what I see.
I see the green and the green and the green again.
That bright green that only the god I half-heatedly believe in could have created.

I feel the sun that I've longed for in the rain that we so desperately need.
It's here now. It's here to tempt my inevitable return once I leave.
It's these trees I want. These oaks are the only ones that can please me.

I hear the crow of my boy, he's challenging me.
But I don't have the heart to tell him that our days are numbered.
My days in this house are numbered. And it's killing me.

I love this Valley. It's the only place I need.
It's here to tempt my inevitable return once I leave.