Turn Over a New Leaf

Turn Over a New Leaf Verse 1 There’s a leaf on the pavement, Dry and curled with age, Like something that once mattered But has finished with the page. There’s another in a notebook, Waiting white and clean, No history written on it, No telling what it means. Pre-Chorus Some things fall because they’re finished, Some things turn because they’re due, Some things only start becoming When we choose to make them new. Chorus Turn over a new leaf, Turn over a new page, Let the old one tell its story Without living in its cage. Let autumn do the letting go, Let spring decide what grows, You don’t have to burn the whole book Just because one chapter closed. Turn over a new leaf, See what waits beneath, Sometimes change is nothing more Than choosing what to keep. Verse 2 Paper came from branches, Words came from a mind, Funny how we make our stories From the things we leave behind. Every mark becomes a memory, Every line becomes a trail, Some are written like a triumph, Some are written like a fail. But ink is not a prison, And yesterday’s not law, You can read what came before you Without becoming what you saw. Chorus Turn over a new leaf, Turn over a new page, Let the old one tell its story Without living in its cage. Let autumn do the letting go, Let spring decide what grows, You don’t have to burn the whole book Just because one chapter closed. Bridge A leaf can fall. A leaf can grow. A leaf can hold the words we know. A leaf can shade. A leaf can fade. A leaf can become a page someday. And every page you turn Leaves something else behind… But leaving isn’t losing When it makes a little room inside. Build Write it softer. Write it stronger. Stay a little. Grow a little longer. Keep the lesson. Lose the weight. Turn the leaf Before it gets too late. Final Chorus Turn over a new leaf, Turn over a new page, You can honour where you’ve travelled Without staying at that stage. Let autumn teach the letting go, Let spring remind you why, Every ending feeds a beginning When we give the roots some time. Turn over a new leaf, There’s still plenty left to see… The next page isn’t empty. It’s possibility. Outro Leaf by leaf. Page by page. Season by season. Write your age.