Windy days of yard.

Windy days of yard
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The old swing sways lonesome, on windy days of yard, the years have passed on memories , getting older must be hard, 

I still wonder if I'd fly, if I lifted up my feet, it seems I may have grown now, I cannot sit upon the seat,

yet the grass makes friends and stays nearby, I'd dreamt of wings as a little child to fly,

the flowers come and bring the love, wild and free beneath the sky
The swing still sways on lonesome days

Where I dreamt that I could fly.