Treetops.

We were both young,
when we sat in the treetops,
so young, so desprate,
to grow up to fast.

But now its diffrent,
we are grown up,
sixteen at last,
joking at how we will die when we are seventeen.

Never did i think it would happen,
a accident they said, what waffle.
I still carry the knife with me,
never letting it go.

'Cause when you were taken,
i cried and cried.
For all the memories,
to die...