Tendons.

And isn't it clever what weather can do?
It's almost like springtime, like summer's anew
A breath in my lungs and I'm so close to flying
But I take one more look and the summer is dying

Can't count the times I've begged leaves not to fall
I guess I'm just slightly afraid of it all
If it's so easy to die when your anchor starts crumbling
I'll try not to trip and I'll find myself stumbling

Most of the time I'm quite sickened by rhymes
And this time is no different.
Most of the time I can't bear to use "I"
Yeah, well.
Life is up here but you comment below.
Can't we talk?
I'm sick.