Little Wings
Little Wings
Little Wings
Little Wings
Little Wings
Little Wings
Little Wings
Little Wings
Little Wings
Little Wings
Little Wings
Little Wings
Little Wings
Little Wings
Light green leaves
From the trees
Traffic breathes
And it seems
Light green leaves
From the trees
Never leave
And it seems
Light green leaves
(Beneath your windshield wipers whip around)
From the trees
(You comb your hair and walk back into town)
Traffic breathes
(The same breath that I breathe when I'm around)
And it seems
(We best enjoy them before they turn brown)
Light green leaves
(Like feathers on a bird that's standing still)
From the trees
(They flock upon the branches and they wilt)
Never leave
(As long as they're alive when they are found)
And it seems
(They're hanging in the trees but soon fall down)
Light green leaves