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Beneath the Old Tree by Cindy

SongGPT
Beneath the Old Tree by Cindy - Slowed Dance music cover art

Beneath the Old Tree

Slowed Dance

0:003:58
Lyrics
Description
Soft wind, one breath, home.
Under the oak with white glass leaves, A bench that knows our weight and weave.
Your thumb traces M and J in a slow, small arc, A folded photo keeps our summer dark.
Acorns click like a tiny drum, The day leans amber scent of rain and plum.
We lean in quiet, the world steps back, Your jacket smells like coffee, cedar and black.
Light filters slow, long notes in gold, We breathe, we count the years we hold.
Beneath the old tree, you and me, Carved initials, a coin, a folded memory.
We lean, we sway, time slows, soft and true, Beneath the old tree, you and me.
Your laugh is small against a creak of wood, A scar on the bench from when we understood.
The photograph frays at the corner scene, You press your head, I press the same dream.
Leaves fall like commas in our speech, The bench keeps secrets we refuse to teach.
We count the seasons by the smell of the soil, Winter comes quiet, summer loosens its coil.
Light takes longer to leave tonight, Our shadows fuse in the fading light.
Beneath the old tree, you and me, Carved initials, a coin, a folded memory.
We lean, we sway, time slows, soft and true, Beneath the old tree, you and me.
Remember the promise half-whispered, half-run?
You said we'd leave at dawn and chase a different sun.
We packed our words in a paper plane, it blew away.
I found it years later on this bench, damp and gray.
We argued, doors closed, nights stretched long and wide.
I thought the map was lost, you came back with tide.
You sat, hands shaking, and you said, stay with me.
So we patched the seams with quiet honesty.
Beneath the old tree, you and me, A coin, a photo, initials pressed like plea.
We lean, we stay, slow dance of what we'll be, Beneath the old tree, you and me.
Hold this breath, hold it close, Leaves fall slow, we keep the post.
The bench remembers, the oak keeps time, We sway, we sigh, your hand in mine.
Hold this breath, hold it close, Leaves fall slow, we keep the post.
The bench remembers, the oak keeps time, We sway, we sigh, your hand in mine.
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