Morning is Gone
The morning is gone and noon is nigh
We try to live life, but escape the flight
But we have all changed our tunes
No one still names their child April May or June
It is a way of the past
No one still names their child April May or June
It is a way of the past
when summer was spring's best friend
creating exhilarating memories
where hearts were made to blend
Now the overcast of winter remains ever-present
binding the love of happiness in its essence
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