I hear creaking in the trees beside the path
As if a ghost of a little kid
Had tied a small swing on a branch
And swung on the swing set
As in the old times, when back at home
On a pretty little farm, a beautiful township
A grave tragedy, a terrible accident
Brought her to now live in the forest
Hoping passer-bys could notice her
And spend a little time with her
One a day a little boy walking by
With his mind greater than adults
Noticed her, noticed her tears, noticed her pain
He went and sat a while with her
And came back everyday
The ghost of a little girl now fulfilled
But the only thing keeping them apart
Was that they lived in different worlds
And one day in old age, the old man sat by the girl
And breathed his last breath
To finally join his long lost love,
His sister...