Children in backyards playing in the sunshine of summertime;
Swing sets and trampolines, ***** feet and scarred knees.
Wandering through the forest, free to be explorers;
Sleeping in tents always made the most sense.
Those were some good days, living in our old place.
Come winter, we’d jump out of bed, gather the sleds;
Adventures to the big hill, always a thrill.
Snowball fights on starry nights
Until we were satisfied, then warmed by the fireside.
Those were some fun days, living in our old place.
As we got older, life seemed colder;
From my brothers, my father and my mother
The distance increased and the days ceased
When we would play and it was all okay.
Those were some lonely days, living in our old place
Depression visited me too young, the isolation wasn't fun;
Eleven years old, I was sternly told
That of it I should not speak, life became excessively bleak.
Overcome with sadness, an innocent girl navigating through the madness.
Those were some hard days, living in our old place.
Wondering where all the love went and the quality time spent,
Lacking a meaningful connection, absent of familial affection.
Alone in a poorly lit bedroom, experiencing psychological gloom.
Riddled with confusion and fear, everything became more unclear.
Those were some scary days, living in our old place.
We moved on our separate ways, trying to land a job that pays
And find friends who would make amends
To my broken heart, offering a brand new start.
But nothing quite compared to the love that I had for you...
During all those good days, living in our old place.
Maybe emotional neglect has a lifelong effect,
Remaining difficult to let go of the hurt that continued to grow
When I was only a child. Still longing to be reconciled
While learning how to cope, forever holding on to hope
Throughout these restless days, living in our new place.
