Along with the fields of gray,
Music begins to sway.
The songbird begins to sing,
The noises of Spring.
Yellow, blue, maybe even white.
The color of the sky is such a delight.
Down by the shore,
The rain begins to pour.
Across the bridge, between the line.
Home.
I once called it mine.
The scented air along the way.
The flowers make me want to stay.
Green, pink, yellow, and blue.
The rain left on cue.
Run down the path and I'll meet you there.
Maybe you see some cubs and a bear.
Wishing you belong somewhere.
Come down by the bridge and we will show you there.
Home.
Somewhere you can roam.
Home.
The reason you sing this song.
Home.
Somewhere you can belong.
Home.
You see it now.
You'll turn up here somehow.
Down by the bridge's bend.
The road will begin to end.
I'll see you soon,
old friend.
Music begins to sway.
The songbird begins to sing,
The noises of Spring.
Yellow, blue, maybe even white.
The color of the sky is such a delight.
Down by the shore,
The rain begins to pour.
Across the bridge, between the line.
Home.
I once called it mine.
The scented air along the way.
The flowers make me want to stay.
Green, pink, yellow, and blue.
The rain left on cue.
Run down the path and I'll meet you there.
Maybe you see some cubs and a bear.
Wishing you belong somewhere.
Come down by the bridge and we will show you there.
Home.
Somewhere you can roam.
Home.
The reason you sing this song.
Home.
Somewhere you can belong.
Home.
You see it now.
You'll turn up here somehow.
Down by the bridge's bend.
The road will begin to end.
I'll see you soon,
old friend.
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