During the Fall

Mystic     Hundreds fall with
the wind blowing by     The leaves
of the old oak tree     That is tall
    Full of wisdom     One season
Once a year     The leaves of the tall
oak tree dance     They waltz.


They fall green     They fall brown
    Together     In a colorful dance
    Alive to the end     To the end of
their waltz     That they worked on
so hard.


Once on the ground     Forgotten
    Trampled on     By their audience
    Too busy to focus     Leaves are
a hassel     They are dead
    Their audience doesn't focus
to see     Their last walz     That the
leaves worked on so hard.


This cycle repeats     They fall again
    And again     Ignorance by their
audience     No one wants to see
    But do you see?     Can you see?
    Look how sad their mystic walz has become.