when the yellow moon comes up
we'll think about the times we've spent together
when the mourning sun comes up
i'll heave a sigh and dread that i'll forever
i want to say, i want to ask
i want to move, but not too fast
i want to know, i want to grow
be still, my heart- impossible.
when the green moon comes up
i'll dream about the times i could spend together
oh, let the cherry sun rise up!
we'll dream that little dream so languishedly forever
oh, timorous ache, how will you last?
such vague beginnings have traced no past
yet, must admit it, the times were good
eve' when the wouldn'ts did mar the wood.
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