Summertime has ended once again
Smell of harvest, the burnt fields scent
Dust of autumn, drifting in the air
Voice of the whispers echoing there
Etching runes, of old times on a rock
Book of secrets, bound by a lock
Giant willows separate beams of light
Strands of ivy, hold the tree trunk tight
(And they hold on... on... while saying)
Leaves by the wagon in the woods
Leaves fall under the sun
Paint of yellow, held by fireflies
Tome of old times, trampled there and dried
Lost, forgotten, lying in the leaves
Begging, pleading for us to set them free
Days have travelled, time has gone by
Just as willows, leave their seeds to fly
So bring the wagon, again into the light
Watch the memories bring themselves to life
(And then hold on... on... while singing)
Leaves by the wagon in the woods
Leaves fall under the sun
Paint of yellow, held by fireflies
Tome of old times, trampled there and dried
Lost, forgotten, lying in the leaves
Begging, pleading for us to set them free