The trees
Oh the trees
How they twist and turn
Into unfamiliar shapes
Suns set
It's what they do
Mine never came back up, however
I build fires for light and warmth
This is short-lived though
It quickly dies down
Leaving a pile of ash
Destroyed
The rubble
Oh, the rubble
It haunts me
Caused by my fire
But I need survival
Crawling into my head
Fire dies
It's what they do
Mine, however, always meant nothing
