Spring would never come that year, so was said through his tears. No more rose would bloom nor leaves would grow from the willow trees. Down the lake he drowned all memories, bound to walk that long damp road of make believe. Acting wise, head up high, face of ice and sleepless nights. But then the wind lay still it howled sweet words in his ears that a seed grew near the lake, grew big, fed by memories. Blew away his fears, that year, spring was green, much more green, sang it's song for my boy, that year.
Spring would never come that year, so was said through his tears. No more rose would bloom nor leaves would grow from the willow trees. Down the lake he drowned all memories, bound to walk that long damp road of make believe. Acting wise, head up high, face of ice and sleepless nights. But then the wind lay still it howled sweet words in his ears that a seed grew near the lake, grew big, fed by memories. Blew away his fears, that year, spring was green, much more green, sang it's song for my boy, that year.
