People

My eyes they turn back to a thousand years

Mortal instincts and immortal fears

Feel your skin against, your skin against the sun

My brain wants to move but my legs will never run

Through death we take and through this life we give

But after all this time I've learned that to die means to have lived

Oh, the trees they are born, they are born with no sound

And in their death they are gifted a beautiful crown

The walls of this garden are slowly closing in

It's so funny how the start looks so much like the end