My summer ends soon,
So ends too the lullaby,
And happier the fall seems,
With this cold, summer moon,

Suddenly a shift of reasons,
Snaps this olive tree,
Snaps my heart apart,
A season but,
Not spring,

Autumn, here I come,
And let winter settle down,
Walk me whilst I pass,
Comfort me until it's done,

I promise by tomorrow then,
Spring colors will fly,
For summer's next autumn,
Green or gold,
They'll die,

Sooner than later, Autumn,
I'll visit next July,
Let me have these tears first;
But don't cry, Autumn.
Don't cry...