These glowing lights tonight
They sing a song
This night is young, so very callow
But it sings; it's been here for way too long
Tonight,
With these brimming, all-seeing lights
That lies against these dark skies
Whilst the poet gazes upon it and sighs: “My, does the time fly!”
These August Nights
Are so plainly in sight
But not here before me
But the ones disclosed in distant memory
Those short nights
Have come and gone
But this year, those nights
Have become grown far too long
This night, these cold August Nights
And the coming of fall
These nights I'm afraid
Have become far too long
They sing a song
This night is young, so very callow
But it sings; it's been here for way too long
Tonight,
With these brimming, all-seeing lights
That lies against these dark skies
Whilst the poet gazes upon it and sighs: “My, does the time fly!”
These August Nights
Are so plainly in sight
But not here before me
But the ones disclosed in distant memory
Those short nights
Have come and gone
But this year, those nights
Have become grown far too long
This night, these cold August Nights
And the coming of fall
These nights I'm afraid
Have become far too long

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