Sad Trumpet

The leaves fell from the trees,
they are gathering down the stem.
They are waiting to be picked,
for the one who will collect them.

All the memories they carry,
are about to be destroied.
All the things held will be taken away,
and will be no more.

No longer living a dream,
no longer carry their words,
the wind killed it all.
And now even the melody of the trumpet,
is getting weird and cold.
Against the odds, it all volatile,
even the scent of the crumpets.
And now it's all fading away,
leaving nothing but sad trumpet.

All the words disappear,
the wind takes it all.
You cannot win,
you can only fall.

There are ghosts where were our lives,
and now it hurts like the poision of the serpent.
And the beating heart is craving for some warmth,
but there's nothing but the sad trumpet.

No longer living a dream,
no longer carry their words,
the wind killed it all.
And now even the melody of the trumpet,
is getting weird and cold.
Against the odds, it all volatile,
even the scent of the crumpets.
And now it's all fading away,
leaving nothing but sad trumpet.