Become Forgotten

The road outside my house has never been what you would call busy
But there are cars that pass by from time to time

Families going to their grandparents house down the road
Trucks bringing goods on the shortest route from one town to the next
Men and women taking in the country air on a lazy afternoon

But these days, families aren’t going to grandma’s house
The trucks have stopped bringing their goods
And for too many folks, every day is a lazy one, so the joy of taking a drive is gone

Now, instead of cars, the pavement is pounded only by my two little feet
The hills have turned from scenery into a studio,
The panorama into a pulpit of pirouettes and pas de couru

The air has never felt so fresh
The grass never looked so green,
Nature never allowed to be its natural self

So we dance, we frolic, we bound through the fields
We make the most out of the worst
So this abandoned asphalt does not become forgotten

Happily dancing because the road outside my house will never be busy
But one day, cars will pass by from time to time again