Crayons Are The Smell Of Childhood

I miss those days...

The creak of the chain

The rhythm of the wind through the trees

Memories of the past replace the pain

Hearts are harder to fix than skinned knees.

 

Hand in hand

The pebbles between our toes

Barefoot in the sand.

We'll set off to the place that no one knows.

 

Higher and higher

This love's spreading like fire

Keep swinging, keep swinging

Can't you hear the ringing?

Of the silver bells in the distance.

 

The rust under my fingertips

The cold wood I'm sitting on.

The static from our lips

Could last till dawn.

 

Don't be afraid, just let go

Sun in your eyes, glistening with tears

Shake the ground of the earth below.

Who ever knew the past was so near.

 

Higher and higher

This love's spreading like fire

Keep swinging, keeping swinging

Can't you hear the ringing?

Of your knee shaking voice.

 

Let's sit in the sand box

With the old acoustic guitar

Sing me "our song" that we heard on those late night walks.

Leave in me a permanent scar.

 

So, higher, and higher

This love is spreading like fire.

Keep swinging and swinging

Can't you hear the ringing?

Of the funeral bells.

Author's Note

A special thanks to Allie_Scemo for the title of this song. By the way, I meant for this to be a poem, but I like it better as lyrics...

Reviews

[w. r.]

really, really, really...good-good. it's really good-good. yep. very good-good.

[Stephanie Allen]

I liked it a lot, especially the line, "Hearts are harder to fix than skinned knees." I did have trouble finding the rhythm in some of the lines, though, but that might just be because there's only lyrics here to go off of.