Like leaves from a tree, at the beginning of Fall,
Ready you are, to sail me by,
Along-with-the-wind-and-yet-bound-to-the-soil,
Ready I am, to watch you sail,

And we all know, we always seem to know,
Where we go, and what we undergo,
But we don't.
We always seem to notice,
But we don't
Yes we don't.

And we turn things over,
'Til it tears our ties off,
And we drift,
And we're turning round and round,
Turn things over !
Tear the ties off !
Hear me sing,
I am falling to the ground.

Like leaves from a tree, at the beginning of Fall,
Gone crisp and cold, you sail me by,
Along-with-the-wind-and-yet-bound-to-the-soil,
My spirit quails, I watch you sail.

And we all know, we always seem to know,
Where we go, and what we undergo,
But we don't.
We always seem to notice,
But we don't
Yes we don't

And I turned things over,
And I tore my ties off,
And I drifted awhile,
And I saw,

A splendid tree,
From faraway:
Its highest branch,
Would never sway,

For everything,
You can't ignore,
We make mistakes,
'Bout what we are,

Yet some persons,
Do tie us all,
And make us feel,
So small.