That day when I was seven, or perhaps maybe nine
It doesn't really matter the age
Life had become a little more than a calm lake
and had swept me up with it's tide
I had thought little things that would become unimportant
Maybe I still think the same
But I don't think I can do it
That day with stained carpets just right out the doorway
no door, the hinges left empty
of the wood's embrace
La...