You asked me if people are seasonal
meant to only exist in your life for a while
and through all the holes you have disappeared into
I fear at the thought of being one
which you question, which you imply
that I may be soon to die-- in those memories of yours
do you ask me to find a reason? An easier way to say
that the fall of your thoughts have arrived to end our summer\'s day
I couldn\'t be wise, because I was loving like a fool
kept pouring my heart until it called me cruel
you stop and call me kind but I can\'t help but refuse
for I was your seasons love-- and I was the loving fool.