With a torrent and a flourish and a slap
the summer ends
And the bitter breeze of yesterday comes
screaming round the bends
With a whimper and a whinny and a whine
the people groan
Inside of doors with windows shut again
to be alone
With a sputter and a crumble and a crack
the gold turns gray
The warmer winds and dulcet days once more
get locked away
