It's five in the morning,
When the lights creeping by.
Hiding its face from me,
In the Northern sky.
I don't see the fog lights,
and the
Semptember Haze.
and You see even clearly,
and thats when you leave.
And I like the silence,
and your Sunday songs.
I know you must go now,
and don't be so alone.
And I'll catch your sadness,
as it falls from the trees.
And I'll keep it safe for you,
Or I'll just keep it for me.

KORREKTUREN ÃœBERMITTELN