Beautiful rustling tree leaves crescendo fortissimo with the autumn wind
Decrescendoing from their throne, like Bach's piano to the ground, they feel the cool of winter
Hearkening to their mother wood as the raven perches with a fermata view
To the symphonically intertwined branches in search of sun
Who's rays resemble the colorful roots ensemble from which the branches grew.

The sun, oh my son, it's everywhere and anywhere you are, it's there.
The sun, oh my son, you could be anywhere and wherever you are, it's there too.
Oh my son, the sun, it will be there.

Wolf howls vibrato in the night with the light of the four beat moon shining down
To where another lover named al sits on the ground wishing life had a coda
Like trains with full loads and weight quotas requiring the whistle to blow as they cross the crossroads
Causing a travelers grand pause by the rails where ones stature determines your pitch
A maples sweetness to the tongue is as bitter as its bonding junction to the ground.

The sun, oh my son, it's everywhere and anywhere you are, it's there.
The sun, oh my son, you could be anywhere and wherever you are, it's there too.
Oh my son, the sun, it will be there.

I'm through and through done with you ground
I'm off to see the giver of air moist with warm light.
I'm going flying. I'm off to see the sun.

The sun, oh my son, it's everywhere and anywhere you are, it's there.
The sun, oh my son, you could be anywhere and wherever you are, it's there too.
Oh my son, the sun, it will be there for you,
In your times of trouble.