The marquee stands alone
Summer has gone, the music is dead
The crowds have flown
And the trees are turning red
You await seasons to turn
And Summer to come again
But till then you are forlorn
And live with pain
Summer festivals lift your spirits
A chance to recapture lost youth
A time with no limits
But you have lost sight of the truth
Was your past better than your future
Shouldn’t you move with the times
Was your past really supper?
Maybe you haven’t yet reached your prime.