stars still stud the sky, as the
August night slips by?
Like a thief who stole the summer,
when the weather went awry?
By the banks beside the river,
were there time of risks in
May
In the cinders of the railway track,
as they flowered in my day
On the swings of evening playgrounds,
where the girls smoked cigarettes
Can you beg the southern breezes,
not to carry my regrets
Do the
Sunday morning ladies,
In the jingle of the rain,
Ride their horses through the hol loway,
In the leaves of lovers' lane,
And the starling murmurations,
with the ballet that they do
Do they shadowbox the twilight still,
till it turns to midnight blue?
Where the bus stops by the graveyard,
do the conkers clatter down
After passing of
September,
when the lights go on in town
On the swings of evening playgrounds,
where the girls smoke cigarettes
Can you beg for seven breezes,
not to carry my regrets?
so
so
And the bus stops by the graveyard
Where the conkers clatter down
After passing of
September
Where the lights go on in town
On the swings of evening playgrounds,
where the girls smoke cigarettes
Can you beg the southern breezes,
not to carry my airy grits?
Bye