The dark skies move away, and the sun comes to shine away, 

A calm breeze blows out the way;  my brothers run away,

Are parents call out names, steadily running to the house?

The red farm is run down and old. 

When are we going to let this place go?

The garden is dying and overgrown,

the gate just sits there like a stone.

We always used to go to the well,

All those wishes we'll never know.

The farm is old and boring, when will we move and start new?

We always asked until a yes,  

We are moving and it feels like a movie.

We pack our things, and it's time to go, 

thinking of all the memories we will let go.