Falling Bough

We try and listen close

But where we live is far too high to hear

Why don't we come down from this

And leave the fiction to the fool that fears

A little tired

We are all a little tired

We're try to hear a ghost

But just below the bough is ancient soil

Breathing out complex compost

But from above it will always seem like dirt

It's about that time

We are all a little tired

All a little tired

Some would have it known this is how it is

And how it's been

Or is it because they can't convince themselves

To put away the book and pull themselves to

Earth with all?

We are all a little tired