((Open w/Ginger)) I sit at the top of my favorite tree outside my abandoned house, watching the birds. It was fall and the leaves were starting to turn a brilliant orange. A small breeze blows my short hair away from my face. I close my eyes, listening to the birds, and feeling the wind in my hair. I suddenly hear something in the long grass below. Your feet crunching early fallen leaves. As you speak I lose my balance on the branch and fall on my back out of the tree.