the good years

The leaves are changing Colours again I fear this is The very end Paint my nails new colours I wait for the Cold to pass I'm under the covers I make cold coffee When it's cold outside I fear I'm going to feel this way For the rest of my life The tree in the backyard of my childhood home Is being cut right down I feel the memories go And I play this ukulele that I learned at 14 Trying to hold on to that part of me Trying to hold on to the past But it seems as though the good years have passed Five years old I think I've found gold in The hearts of people That I barely know The beginnings of hurt Disguised in private school skirts The October breeze Is the only one that holds me The tree in the backyard of my childhood home Is being cut right down I feel the memories go And I play this ukulele that I learned at 14 Trying to hold on to that part of me Trying to hold on to the past But it seems as though the good years have passed Thought my life would be a movie Instead I feel them looking through me Can't believe how much time has flown right past me Feels like I've done nothing Thought at least I'd feel something I can feel them all judging Oh they're judging Are they judging? The tree in the backyard of my childhood home Is being cut right down I feel the memories go And I play this ukulele that I learned at 14 Trying to hold on to that part of me Trying to hold on to the past But it seems as though the good years have passed