There's a house
That's not on a hill
And the paint's chipping off of the old window sillThere's a tree in the front yard that's older than me
Older than meThere's a smell that the heat makes that reminds me of Christmas
And birthdays in DecemberI remember her
I remember her
I remember her so wellI remember her
I remember her
I remember her so well
Things they fade
She would kiss my hand
She would kiss my head
And she'd fall asleep on me
In my tiny bedShe'd sing me lullabuys
Gave me my hazel eyes
And then she'd call me beautiful
She made me beautifulI remember her
I remember her
I remember her so wellI remember her
I remember her
I remember her so wellBut things they fade
Things turn to grey
As much as I try to save them
They turn to grey
Just like the house
That's not on a hill
With all of the rust on the gate that chips on the sill
But I love it still
