The Woods
John Noir Smith
We head to the woods
We're back again
Feels like we're meeting an old friend
It's quiet here
The sun feels near
The air has a presence that is felt
The birds they sing
The plants they grow
And all our worries are left at home
Nothing needs done
As long as we're here
And reconnect with our selves
The simple life
Without all things
Which could be weighing us down
We head to the woods
We're back again
Feels like we're meeting an old friend