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Leaves no longer paint the sky in their descent
And I met the dry, stale air with my wooden nose
Don't know whether to take in or resent
In all of this mess, my brown bare bones refuse to make foes
Now the white blankets have turned clear
I get drowned while their moisture
makes a scene
How foolish; I thought that they'd just disappear
Nothing better to do; I'll watch my hands turn green
The water is now in the atmosphere
And so are yellow streaks
Because of all the foliage I can't see from here
And the sky constantly speaks
Now comes the time where I go bald
And humidity is on vacation
How quickly it all left! I admit I'm appalled
But I like our separation...
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