There are thoughts that I seize
About sycamore trees
Which have lined ev'ry street that I knew.
They were there from the start,
Lining streets, taking part
In our hearts as they grew while we grew.

Sycamore trees, gathering light
Nursing the birds singing into the night.
Together we grew and took flight.

There are things that I feel
As the ringing bells peal
And the leaves fought a hard autumn rain.
These are streets that are sweet
Where the bowed branches meet,
Meet and mirror the beauty and pain.

Sycamore trees, growing so tall,
I saw your inception, you saw me so small.
Together we rise as we fall.

It is hard for I know
That wherever you go,
You are faced with a view quite the same.
Nothing hurts half as much
As the spirit you touch
Wearing clothes in a shell with your name.

Sycamore trees, keeper of days,
Days that I watch disappear in a haze,
A setting sun's final blue blaze.

There are thoughts that I seize
About sycamore trees
Which have lined every street that I've known.
There a child, here I stand,
Life unfolds like a fan.
Soon a tree standing next to a stone,
Shedding its leaves.

Why does the past leave me crying in heaves?

Sycamore trees, gathering light
Nursing the birds singing into the night.
Together we grow and took flight.