It was just that golden time of the year
I knew I heard your voice
You requested me to follow
That way we all must go
I recalled the words you've written
The last time you held the quill
I wanted the winds to take me
But something held my will
I can feel you roam
When the seeds are grown
I hear you cry along
To the reaping song
You had left before the winter
With the last of fallen leaves
Our universe had splintered
I could not blur the grief
But when the birds fly south
And apples fall from trees
You're granting me a sprout
Of times that used to be
Within this time of year
I can feel you near
I hear you cry along
To the reaping song
It was the rising of the fall
And again I heard your call
Your presence would increase
With the last October breeze
You invited me your way
This time I could not stay
And in that golden time of the year
I walked with you my dear
Now the maples sigh
And the birches cry
When I sing along
To the reaping song
Nu aš nemačiau. Arba mačiau, bet neatpažinau, nes mano veidų atmintis yra tragiška Bet tada būčiau tikėjęsis, kad gal kas prie manęs prieis pasilabint. Tikimybių teorija nesuveikė šįkart, matyt.
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