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Here on the far side of time
We’re near the end of the line
Our days have grown withered and small
Like the ivy that clings to the wall.

Off on the long road to home
We’re meant to go it alone
Still, there are times we recall
The ivy that clings to the wall.

We early ran from the safety of school yards
In search of a better, more beautiful world
One day we turned in the road
To find our new worlds were all in our mind.

Some other season, perhaps
Pretty girls sat on our laps
But seasons can change after all
Like the ivy that clings to the wall.

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