|
When the White Eaglr of the North,
Is flying overhead.
And the reds, golds and and browns
Of Autumn, lay in the gutter, dead.
Remember then the Summer birds
With wings of fire, flying
Come to witness Springs new hope,
Born of leaves decaying.
As new life will come from death,
Love will come with pleasure.
Love of love, love of life,
And giving without measure.
Gives in return the wonderous yearn
of a promise
Almost seen.
live hand in hand and together we'll stand
On the threshold of a dream.
| 
