The mornings were gray
Like the hair on his nape
And I lost the mittens you gave
They were red, with some beads
I cried for days, screamed obscenities
Like a balloon floating high
Just a child, a child
Tries to be so free
The trees were soft
Contrasting the sky
Like you to me
When we try to dance or sing
Like a blue song from Holiday
Or a cool evening breeze
Or the smell of the grass
After dusk when we walked
Without lights, just the stars
And our hearts on our sleeves
A child, a child, is only so free