Falling bough

We try and listen close
But where we live is far too high to hear
Why don't we come down from this
And leave the fiction to the fool that fears
A little tired
We are all a little tired

We're try to hear a ghost
But just below the bough is ancient soil
Breathing out complex compost
But from above it will always seem like dirt
It's about that time
We are all a little tired
All a little tired

Some would have it known this is how it is
And how it's been
Or is it because they can't convince themselves
To put away the book and pull themselves to
Earth with all?
We are all a little tired