|
The honey wind blows |
|
And the warm days dwindle |
|
The butterfly spins a silk cacoon |
|
On a silvery spindle. |
|
The petals fall |
|
From the last red rose |
|
The last red rose |
|
When the honey wind blows. |
|
The petals fall |
|
And the summer goes |
|
The summer goes |
|
When the honey wind blows. |
|
The honey wind blows |
|
And the days grow colder |
|
Somehow the world and I have grown |
|
Just a little bit older. |
|
I sit alone |
|
Where the fire glows |
|
The fire glows |
|
And the honey wind blows. |
|
I sit alone |
|
And the good Lord, knows |
|
I miss you so |
|
When the honey wind blows... |
