Текст песни
August hits the block, stomping on the warm ground,
The sun is dropping down, finishing its round.
Leaves hold their color, don’t want to fade away,
But the wind is already whispering: the shift is on the way.
The heat retreats to shadows, silence takes the lead,
All the heavy words are frozen, hanging in the breeze.
Birds are packing up, setting course for the south,
Summer’s melting fast, like snow in a desert drought.
Time has no "stop" button, it’s an endless race,
Soon the dust will be buried under snow’s white embrace.
August, goodbye, you’re the final chord,
Summer’s last beat, our own private reward.
September rolls in, changing up the game,
Autumn weaves a masquerade, never quite the same.
Then comes the winter, ice and dreams of white,
Cold water flowing till the spring brings light.
But we’ll lock this August deep inside our chest,
A golden fire burning, put to the test.
September covers yards in a coat of ginger gold,
Rain washes off the dust, hitting windows, brave and bold.
Maples in the park are tired, dimming down their noise,
Autumn has matured, giving thoughts a steady poise.
November pulls the curtains, cuts the daylight short,
The frost is creeping up, like a shadow in the court.
December throws an oversized white coat on the trees,
A snowy freestyle, a winter hit-list breeze.
Time flies like a bullet, you can’t slow it down,
Summer and autumn — just threads in a gown.
We’ll meet the winter with the heat we hold inside,
Remembering this August when the streetlights hide.
August, goodbye, you’re the final chord,
Summer’s last beat, our own private reward.
September rolls in, changing up the game,
Autumn weaves a masquerade, never quite the same.
Then comes the winter, ice and dreams of white,
Cold water flowing till the spring brings light.
But we’ll lock this August deep inside our chest,
A golden fire burning, put to the test.
August is leaving, but it leaves a trace,
Warmth in the heart, light in the sky’s embrace.
We face the winter, looking in its eyes,
Summer will return, that’s the decree of the skies.
