When summer thither to fall
You smile to me with crimson joy.
Sweet promises when you call.
Is it a game or just a ploy?
To make me good like I should
As we stroll hand in hand
In autumn wind of pathless wood
And mark footprints on the sand.
While snow withers the amber leaves
Your flaming heart turns to cold.
Losing your love is what I fear
I need your heart to warm my soul
Before winter thaws to spring
And love birds crest to sing.
