Changes

Sit by my side, come as close as the air

Share in a memory of gray

And wander in my words

And dream about the pictures that I play

Of changes

Green leaves of summer turn red in the fall

To brown and to yellow they fade

And then they have to die

Trapped within the serpentine parade

Of changes

Passions will part to a strange melody

As fires will sometimes burn cold

Like petals in the wind

We're puppets to the silver strings of souls

Of changes

Sit by my side, come as close as the air

Share in a memory of gray

And wander in my words

And dream about the pictures that I play

Of changes

And wander in my words

And dream about the pictures that I play

Of changes