Two girls fly together on a swing,

Laughter echoing through the trees;

Moments like these leave them thinking

That they are the only two people in the world.

Jazz music tumbles out of open windows

And surrounds their little world,

Like a golden cage around a wren,

To protect the sweet song it sings.

But the cage has been broken,

And the wren has gotten lost;

Only one girl sits on the swing now,

Somber and lonely,

Swinging back and forth slowly.

Empty promises of letters and calls still fresh in her mind.

No music is heard because the windows are shut,

The ghost of laughter still echoing through the trees.