• On a Summer's day I write to thee,
    With solid words of misery,
    And the only thing to do is plea,
    For you,
    For you,
    To come back to me.

    I listen to the birds sing,
    They remind me of your call,
    When I listen to these birds sing,
    I am no longer in thrall.

    I await you by the doorstep,
    For you've finally returned,
    But as I await you by the doorstep,
    My stomach begins to churn.

    The birds have gone with winter's might,
    And the chill has come as well,
    But I need not birds nor warmth,
    When thy kiss is just as swell.