Lyric

Standing on the hill, a quiet house of wood

Weathered by time, yet still filled with warmth

Surrounded by gardens, lush and green

Birdsong drifts through the air, alive and serene

Wind taps the windows, rain drums on the roof

A melody of seasons, softly calling through

The old clock ticks, marking passing years

Each second tells the story that this house holds dear

Beneath its small roof, hearts weave dreams

Laughter, whispers, silence—intertwined streams

Every story layered, a tapestry of life

Moments of joy, of quiet, and strife

Night descends, stars begin to gleam

Moonlight dances across the garden’s dream

In the stillness, memories rise again

Echoes of long-ago days, carried in the rain

Walls have aged, paint has faded thin

Floors creak softly, sharing stories within

Yet this house wraps us in comfort and care

A timeless embrace, always waiting there

Rain pours down, tapping at the panes

Leaves sway gently, drops compose refrains

A rainbow after storms, a symbol of hope

Gardens flourish, nature helps us cope

Spring brings blossoms, fragrant and bright

Summer deepens greenery, insect songs ignite

Autumn paints leaves in fiery delight

Winter cloaks all in a veil of white

This house simply exists, quietly observing time

Weaving stories softly, as if in rhyme

A place of home, a harbor for my heart

A timeless sanctuary, where memories start