Sit by my [bad word] as close as the air, 
Share in a memory of gray 
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. 

Scenes of my young years were warm in my mind, 
Visions of shadows that shine. 
'Til one day I returned to find they were the 
Victims of the winds of changes. 

The world's spinning madly, it drifts in the dark 
Swings through a hollow of haze, 
race around the stars, a journey through 
universe ablaze with changes. 

Passions will part to a strange melody. 
As fires will sometimes burn cold. 
Like pedals in the wind, we're puppets to the silver 
Strings of souls, of changes. 

Your tears will be trembling, now we're somewhere else, 
One last cup of wine we will pour 
And I'll kiss you one more time, and leave you on 
The rolling river shore, of changes. 

Sit by my [bad word] as close as the air, 
Share in a memory of gray 
Wander in my words, and dream about the pictures 
That I play of changes.

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