The Groaning Creation

We knew you would come, when we saw that spring had begun. Everywhere downy leaves on branches That shot from the roots of the trees. We knew you would stay, when we felt summer coming our way. Frail summer dresses of linen and cool lemonade. We knew you would leave, when autumn winds stole all our leaves. The final floral sigh of everything we had believed in. Uh, where are you going, sun? Where have you gone? Uh, where are you going, sun? Where have you gone? Uh, where are you going, sun? Where have you gone? Where have you gone? Where have you gone? Where have you gone? Where have you gone? Where have you gone? Where have you gone? Where have you gone?