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I won't be around to cut your holiday trimmings down |
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I won't be there to hold your hand |
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From where I stand you don't appear to need it |
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And the summer end, like a ruined heir we tried to read it |
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Don't think we can |
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A spider you can't catch, a cunning rusty latch |
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A weatherman acting coy, a web you can't destroy |
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But I'm your boy |
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Although you may not need it |
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And the summer flew, I know how hard you tried to beat it |
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But we both knew |
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The light comes in much too early every day |
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It wakes me up but it won't chase those dreams away |
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The light comes in much too early every day |
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It wakes me up but it won't chase those dreams away |
