You have been there since the day I as born.
I come once again to sit under my apple tree,
But feel it dying inside of me,
My swing is still here, my Dad made me as a child,
Once when I was young free and wild.
Now the blossom is out, so pretty against the sky,
But sitting here I feel alone and need to cry.
Do You remember, under the tree that one summers day,
When we promised every year would be that way.
So why has the sky suddenly turned dark,
No little children play in our park,
My apple tree seems to stand all alone,
And my farmhouse is empty, there’s nobody home.
Some blossom falls down upon my face,
As I swing to and fro, in my pretty pink lace,
This swing was made for two, and im feeling so small,
Do you even remember our apple tree at all…..
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