• I'm falling through the trees,
    the branches pushing me
    with the breeze. The smell
    of the sea washes over me.

    Yet it is only a dream, as
    I'm swinging in the breeze.
    Like the branches in the trees.
    It is grass all around me.

    With the sounds of cars
    that roll by. The children
    that tend to cry. I am far
    from a sea.

    Though I prefer this type of breeze,
    and I enjoy swinging with the tress.
    This is the life for me.