It's only a matter of time before we grow up to become adults.
|The sun was setting low,|
Yet we played in the meadow's glow.
Where has our time gone by,
When we were carefree under the sky?
Jumping from hay to hay,
Leaving our footprints in the clay.
Where has the time flown away?
Is the meadow still as green,
Is the mud still dark, I've never seen,
Is the hay still just straw, it seems,
These questions for the unknown, our dreams.