| Sit by my side, come as close as the air
|
| Share in a memory of gray
|
| And wander in my words
|
| And dream about the pictures that I play of changes
|
| Green leaves of summer turn red in the fall
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| To brown and to yellow they fade
|
| But then they have to die
|
| Trapped within the circle time parade of changes
|
| Moments of magic will glow in the night
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| All fears of the forest are gone
|
| And when the morning breaks
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| They’re swept away by golden drops of dawn of changes
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| Passions will part to the melody
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| As fires will sometimes turn cold
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| Like petals in the wind
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| We’re puppets to the silver strings of souls of changes
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| Your tears will be trembling, now we’re somewhere else
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| One last drop of wine we will pour
|
| I’ll kiss you one more time
|
| And leave you on the rolling river shore of changes
|
| Sit by my side, come as close as the air
|
| Share in a memory of gray
|
| And wander in my words
|
| And dream about the pictures that I play of changes |