There once was a boy who danced with the leaves
He whistled the tune of the wooded breeze
he played the drums on the bark of the trees
He heard the sound of life in everything
He grew and grew and the tune did ease
He marched to the sound of clocks and tossed in his sleep
He often dreamed what he could not see
And he heard a song he couldn't quite sing
Until, one day, it was gone
The woods still sang, but he could not hear
The leaves still danced, but he didn't go near
He rushed through life, always looking ahead
He marched to the sound of imaginations dead
At the end of his life, his mind became clear
The wood had been his listening ear
And now he wished the breeze to begin
So that he could feel that he was alive again
The good wood being ever so kind
Whistled its tune to the man once blind
And to the boy who danced in his prime
It sang a lullaby one last time
Nov 15, 2025
Nov 15, 2025 at 12:25 PM UTC
There once was a boy who danced with the leaves
He whistled the tune of the wooded breeze
he played the drums on the bark of the trees
He heard the sound of life in everything
He grew and grew and the tune did ease
He marched to the sound of clocks and tossed in his sleep
He often dreamed what he could not see
And he heard a song he couldn't quite sing
Until, one day, it was gone
The woods still sang, but he could not hear
The leaves still danced, but he didn't go near
He rushed through life, always looking ahead
He marched to the sound of imaginations dead
At the end of his life, his mind became clear
The wood had been his listening ear
And now he wished the breeze to begin
So that he could feel that he was alive again
The good wood being ever so kind
Whistled its tune to the man once blind
And to the boy who danced in his prime
It sang a lullaby one last time