Brown leaves drift in the wind,
it is autumn again.
We met in the spring and spent that autumn together
never knowing how precious each falling leaf which with the days drifted away.
We met in the spring, you died in winter
when the Magnolias were blooming so,
six years ago.
We were together then, now you are gone from me
though you linger in the wind.
Your flame still burns brightly
for it is protected from the wind.
how then dreams seemed possible, just on the horizon.
The cruel wind blows hard; it blows our dreams away,
like dried leaves they swirl and whisper in the wind.
They whisper of long ago when the sun was higher.
All things crumble and decay, we all do too.
Our dreams drive us on
as we dash and hide from the sun.
Our dreams whisper to us of another place
as they fade into dust; they whisper of another place just beyond this dreamy life.
The cruel wind that blows hard, that blows our dreams away,
like dried leaves they swirl and whisper in the wind.
Long ago when the sun was brighter,
how then dreams seemed possible, just on the horizon.
All things crumble and decay, we all do too.
Our dreams drive us on
as we dash and hide from the sun.
it is autumn again.
We met in the spring and spent that autumn together
never knowing how precious each falling leaf which with the days drifted away.
We met in the spring, you died in winter
when the Magnolias were blooming so,
six years ago.
We were together then, now you are gone from me
though you linger in the wind.
Your flame still burns brightly
for it is protected from the wind.
how then dreams seemed possible, just on the horizon.
The cruel wind blows hard; it blows our dreams away,
like dried leaves they swirl and whisper in the wind.
They whisper of long ago when the sun was higher.
All things crumble and decay, we all do too.
Our dreams drive us on
as we dash and hide from the sun.
Our dreams whisper to us of another place
as they fade into dust; they whisper of another place just beyond this dreamy life.
The cruel wind that blows hard, that blows our dreams away,
like dried leaves they swirl and whisper in the wind.
Long ago when the sun was brighter,
how then dreams seemed possible, just on the horizon.
All things crumble and decay, we all do too.
Our dreams drive us on
as we dash and hide from the sun.
