am c
am fmaj7

your memory
treads lightly
your footsteps
on the grass
you're lying
on the hill
you're crying
in my arms

it's nothing that we can't stand
it's nothing that we can try
it's not like our hopes were high
this doesn't need to make you cry

your pictures
fade slowly
like sunsets
in my mind
the future
so far away
your voice
just as close

paper flowers
close to flames
not burning
there're no games
simple fun
until the end
years to come
what a friend