No More Walks In The Wood - The Eagles

No more walks in the wood
The trees have all been cut down
And where once they stood
Not even a wagon rut appears along the path
Low brush is taking over

No more walks in the wood
This is the aftermath
Of afternoons in the clover fields

Where we once made love
Then wandered home together
Where the trees arched above
Where we made our own weather
When branches were the sky

Now they are gone for good
And you, for ill, and I
Am only a passer-by