Green September burned to October brown
Bare November led to December's frozen ground
The seasons stumbled round our drifting lives are bound to a falling
Crescent noon
Feather clouds cry a vale of tears to earth
Morning breaks and no one sees a quiet mountain bird
Dressed in a brand new day the sun is on its way
To a falling crescent noon
Somewhere in a fairy tale forest lies
One answer that is waiting to be heard
You and I were born like the breaking day
All our seasons all our green Septembers burn away
Slowly will fade into the sea of midnight blue
And the falling crecent noon