A drop on each side
No place to hide behind my head
The star of the day throws himself away, again
His chair is on fire, you must put it out somehow
Now begin
The yellowest leaves, bright on the gray, wet on the sidewalk.
Ignores all his friends
A means to an end, so it ends
The light found its way into another cave, away
He won't hear the words
One can not believe the herds dressed all the same
The yellowest leaves, bright on the gray, still in the cold.
He shakes hands with time
Never thinks to whine, he sets to work
A walk on the beach, for one who gets to see it spin. All permanence lost, good voyage wished, and a good goodbye
The yellowest leaves, they're bright on the gray, waiting to go...