Standard (EADGBE)

^7

Slow-falling whispers on priced up ears

Slow-burning cinders, three long years between

when we lit them in so much haste

High hazard seasons, houses laid to waste

Did you forget it all?

Do you listen when I call?

These fire trails lead north

and slowly back in time

Time has its reasons for letting go

Comes as it pleases. This new growth beneath

where the branches are cracked and bowed

covers the feelings these old scars still show

Did you forget it all?

Do you listen when I call?

These fire trails lead north

and slowly back in time

If only I could have escaped

without turning back to take

things that I could have replaced

You just can’t return to these days