Chorus
A child's voice not alone
Memories
Conversations on the phone
Histories
We were part of a unit from winter to fall
The trees going red through the film of time
We're kissing one another, up against a wall
Sweet breath and fresh scents, just a hint of lime
This feeling had no end, it was true everyday
This was something old and new, close and faraway
It was love at first bite, just a taste of youth
In our own little bubble, waiting for some truth
Histories of our lives, we remind ourselves
How we loved one another, just like wistful elves
And the children are our pride, and a bit of us
Histories of ourselves, yes just a bit of us