Autumn
Leaves crunching under foot,
Crows in the wheat field,
Singing their lonely song.
And the wind blows softly to sway the trees,
And the full moon shines all night long.
And the grass turns brown, as it whispers it's cry,
That autumn is here at last.
Leaves crunching under foot,
Crows in the wheat field,
Singing their lonely song.
And the wind blows softly to sway the trees,
And the full moon shines all night long.
And the grass turns brown, as it whispers it's cry,
That autumn is here at last.
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