As the grass withers,
And the flower fades,
And the leaves fall in
The cool autumn days,
And the sun cuts his days short,
And night shadows the sky,
And the old men grows sleepy,
And sleeping dogs lie,
And the fruits grow less sweet,
And the warmth leaves your hands,
And the days grow in silence,
And the bird leaves the lands,
I’ll sit under this tree
Till the skies turn back blue,
Throughout the cold winter
Just waiting for you.
And you’ll sit by the fire
Just wishing to know
What kind of fool
Would sit in the snow.


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