3Lying softly, intently, silently, 'pon the bark of oak
A voice, a feeling, curled in my blackened throat
One not heard and left unseen
Weary in the full moon's gleam
Listen now, to the crunching of the pine
Auds grown old with the passing of her time
Eyes grown weak and grey
Leg's grown tired in recent times
Fatigued from hiking through the day
Lights have dimmed and nights grown cold
Hours pass without my my care
Wincing in the night now old
As moon flies freely through the air
Listen now, to the crunching of the pine
Auds grown old with the passing of her time
Eyes grown weak and grey
Leg's grown tired in recent times
Fatigued from hiking through the day