Thinking of those days
when honeysuckles used to taste so sweet.
Thinking of those days
When I would go out and play and daisy's would sway gently in the breeze.
Thinking of those days
when daddy played his fiddle to a diffrent tune,
remebering those sweet notes.
Thinking of those honeysuckles that used to taste so sweet,
they are now bitter,
and daddy's fiddle no longer sings,
those sweet light melodies,
the music is now dark and bleak.
How I long to hear his fiddle play like it used to on that sweet,
sweet day,
now it's all dark,
and I can't see,
but all I hear is that same depressing melody.