You'll find my heart
Search my head
You'll find you're at the start
Cause you're all I think of these days
It's autumn and you're the trees
Dead pieces of you flake off to smother me
Dead yet colorful are the leaves
Wish they wouldn't taunt me
I'm the dead grass covered in your tears
Flaked off like leaves from the following years
Far below you dying here
Far below you smothered in your tears
Mountains swallow the sun
Like your hand and my heart glowing with passion
Now I hate sunsets
Cause all alone it just doesn't cut it
Search your hand
You'll find my heart
Search your head
You'll find your at the start
Cause you're all you think of these days
-Aaron Hoyle
