Come along out of the sands running out into autumn, weaving in and weaving out your hands running to here altho the branches and the bushes are coming cold and harsh now the summers gone sand still runs down on to us, over us.
I remember summer lasting 'till forever, I remember seeing leaves run the breeze, I remember loving lights of july in a summer running thru an avenue of trees.
A sky of swallows chasing round shooting higher and higher on the solitary sands that run dry once again...