Turning Leaves (folk rock)

In the whisper of the morning, when the fog lifts from the trees,
I can hear the echoes calling, like a ghost from distant dreams.
Autumn paints the hills with amber, gold and crimson, fleeting hues,
In the heart of this small town, I find myself and think of you.
And the leaves keep turning, like the pages of our lives,
In the breeze, I'm yearning, for the days we left behind.
Though the times are changing, and the years they pass us by,
In the fall, I'm finding, that our love will never die.
Footsteps on a gravel road, the crunch beneath our feet,
Stories shared and secrets told, in the chill of autumn’s heat.
Underneath the harvest moon, shadows dance upon the ground,
We laughed until the night was through, now those memories abound.
And the leaves keep turning, like the pages of our lives,
In the breeze, I'm yearning, for the days we left behind.
Though the times are changing, and the years they pass us by,
In the fall, I'm finding, that our love will never die.
We are the wind, we are the rain, we are the seasons as they change,
In every whisper of the wind, I hear your name, I feel your name.
And the leaves keep turning, like the pages of our lives,
In the breeze, I'm yearning, for the days we left behind.
Though the times are changing, and the years they pass us by,
In the fall, I'm finding, that our love will never die.
In the heart of this small town, where the autumn leaves descend,
I’ll be waiting for you, until the very end.