Someone is singing a song far away as if they want everyone else joining in. But nobody sings here, we're tucked away safe inside our apartments. We wither away listening desperately for you. Summer's come and gone for you; it left you behind. I stand in the city and I watch crowds and trains but I still hear that song and the sound's deafening. Something went wrong here and no-one knows why. It's slow decomposing but quick to pass by. There isn't much time for you. Summer's come and gone for you. Summer's gone, summer's left you. Summer's gone and left you. Summer moves along and summer's always gone too soon.
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Summer's Always Gone Too Soon
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| Ben Weasel |
