The sparks of a new fire
The song of the flames, they never tire.
'Burn, burn, turn to ash,
Get out of the way, run, run, dash.
The colors of the flame, orange yellow red,
If you don't get out, you'll burn in your bed.'
You throw on another log to keep up the heat
As you sing the song and tap your foot to the beat.
Your grandchildren are now in bed, all cozy and warm
And you keep the fire up to heat the house from the storm.
The clock ticks and your husband snores
The fire crackles like two raging bores.
You sigh and lean back
And decide its almost time to hit the sack.
But you see something you never saw before
In the fire, it looks like a door.
You lean in closer, trying to see,
The door opens and you whisper 'its me'.
You when you where young, a child of four
Running joyfully threw the door.
You hold in your hand your favorite doll
And you kick around a colorful ball
But then you watch as your child self nears the fireplace
You put your hands close and ashes fly around your face.
And your hand goes to close to the light
And you scream and back away in fright.
You remember that time, when the fire gave you a fright
And you look at your hand in the light
You see the scar it left from years before
And now you wish you never saw that door.
And as you walk upstairs to bed
The song again runs threw your head
'Burn, burn, turn to ash,
Get out of the way, run, run, dash.
The colors of the flame, orange yellow red,
If you don't get out, you'll burn in your bed.'
The song of the flames, they never tire.
'Burn, burn, turn to ash,
Get out of the way, run, run, dash.
The colors of the flame, orange yellow red,
If you don't get out, you'll burn in your bed.'
You throw on another log to keep up the heat
As you sing the song and tap your foot to the beat.
Your grandchildren are now in bed, all cozy and warm
And you keep the fire up to heat the house from the storm.
The clock ticks and your husband snores
The fire crackles like two raging bores.
You sigh and lean back
And decide its almost time to hit the sack.
But you see something you never saw before
In the fire, it looks like a door.
You lean in closer, trying to see,
The door opens and you whisper 'its me'.
You when you where young, a child of four
Running joyfully threw the door.
You hold in your hand your favorite doll
And you kick around a colorful ball
But then you watch as your child self nears the fireplace
You put your hands close and ashes fly around your face.
And your hand goes to close to the light
And you scream and back away in fright.
You remember that time, when the fire gave you a fright
And you look at your hand in the light
You see the scar it left from years before
And now you wish you never saw that door.
And as you walk upstairs to bed
The song again runs threw your head
'Burn, burn, turn to ash,
Get out of the way, run, run, dash.
The colors of the flame, orange yellow red,
If you don't get out, you'll burn in your bed.'