away my dear away
when the apple snow fills the webs my dear
and the sun doesn’t rest all day
and the grass is bathed in soul my dear
it seems this is to be the way
that day after day this summer dear
we explore the back down way
where hand in hand remember dear
how we walked those times away
for it seems to me now my dear
that there are no more memories to store away
oh dear oh dear my dearest dear
something seems to have gone away
next year when the apple snow fills the webs my dear
and the sun doesn’t rest all day
and the grass is bathed in soul my dear
each of us will have gone our separate way
No comments:
Post a Comment