There is a house It's not on a hill And the There is a tree in the frontyard It's older than me Older than all of you There is a smell at the heat It reminds me of Christmas And birthdays and December I remember her, I remember her I remember her, so well I remember her, I remember her I remember her, so well But things, they fade She would kiss my hand She would kiss my hand And she'd fall asleep on me In my tiny bed She would sing me lullabies Gave me my hazel eyes And then she called me beautiful She made me beautiful I remember her, I remember her I remember her, so well I remember her, I remember her I remember her, so well But things, they fade Things turn to grey As much as I try to save them It turns to grey Just like the house It's not on a hill