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We skipped flat stones across the silver stream
We wore torn jeans and shared a wilder dream
We climbed the willow tree with scabby knees
And swore our friendship would outlast the seas
The stream still runs but you are not near
The willow still bends but you're not here
I walk the dry path that once was wide
And whisper your name to the falling tide
The rusty swing still sways above the grass
The garden path still waits where we used to pass
I miss the way you made the swing go high
I'd hold the ropes so tight and touch the passing sky
The rusty swing still sways above the grass
The garden path still waits where we used to pass
But I still count the rings upon the tree
And each one tells how much you mean to me
The stream still runs but you are not near
The willow still bends but you're not here
I walk the dry path that once was wide
And whisper your name to the falling tide
The rusty swing still sways above the grass
The garden path still waits where we used to pass
I miss the way you made the swing go high
I'd hold the ropes so tight and touch the passing sky
The rusty swing still sways above the grass
The garden path still waits where we used to pass
But I still count the rings upon the tree
And each one tells how much you mean to me
