Looking out the window
The only thing I see
An ancient tree dying in the breeze
Blowing in from the lake to the east
That stretches out to the barren feet
Of the mountains that wane and creak
Like the tree
A lonesome tear hangs from my eye
Caught in a depressed sigh
It quivers in the air
Rolling down my cheek
I feel like a dying tree losing its last leaf
Looking out the window
The only thing I see
An ancient tree dead in the breeze
Blowing in from the lake to the east
That stretches out to the barren feet
Of the mountains that wane and creak
Much like the passed tree