Late at night
While the house sleeps
I drift through the rooms
Thinking of lost places
And forgotten faces
Stuck in old memories

There is the old barn
Where we shifted hay
In the back of the loft
For a secret passage
To hideout in the corner
That had candy hidden
In rusty tins

We spent days
Planning adventures
By the light seeping
In thin sheets
Between cracks
In the boards

I still smell the hay
Hear the horses
Stamping below
As I drift through the rooms
While the house sleeps
Late at night