a little house on a hill

Sitting on a park bench It's evening and I'm all alone In the air that certain stench A slight breeze carrying a soft moan And I wish I could see A dream that makes my head still Of you smiling at me In a little house on a hill But the leaves are rustling in the wind Beckoning a light tune A tale of loneliness for those who sinned By dreaming of death to soon When I close my eyes and can't see I wait, wait, wait until I dream of you again, waiting for me In a little house on a hill So when my final breath gets stuck I will savor it and know That it's not about luck But about what you're owed And I hope that the wind will carry me Into a land where the air stands still And I wonder if my soul would be free In a little house on a hill