Every night and the rising day,
it will remain in the history of the latter.
Fading star, and shred the clouds,
they get something done here.
Shadow play is number of days above,
filled with dew in the autumnal March.
August, way of life to grow blossom honey.
I would like to build a nest for the last time,
temperature to fall asleep.
Saunter down the promoter, to pass without
winter coats, clouds pastures to roam.
On my lap closed the mother earth,
October solace took off,
November lords point position.
During the spring thaw hits the ground,
every winter the bridge to give.
I'm like the final chapter of the book without,
my mind is far away from,
utopia, and the fairy-tale land.
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