The Tree on Fire

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The Tree on Fire

She went back to the wooden house
As quiet as a little mouse
The paint is peeling, grey and cold
Just like the stories she was told

But the tree is on fire, burning red
Alive and waking up the dead
It’s dropping gold upon the ground
Without a single, heavy sound
Oh, the house is old, but the tree is new
Burning bright in the shade of blue

She stands there like a shadow tall
Against the weathered, wooden wall
The reflection in the wet street
Is where the past and present meet

But the tree is on fire, burning red
Alive and waking up the dead
It’s dropping gold upon the ground
Without a single, heavy sound
Oh, the house is old, but the tree is new
Burning bright in the shade of blue

Let it burn, let it fall
Let the autumn cover all
The memories she tried to keep
Now finally can go to sleep

Burning red... inside her head... The tree on fire... her one desire... Burning red...