Sing a song of sorrow as the leaves turn red,
Sing a dirge at sunset as we lay down our heads.
Sing with me, play with me, feel the music turn
To ether that surrounds us, incense that burns.
Save us, Apollo, Calliope, save us from silence of heart
Save us from the quieting of soul and the dying of art.
Love stills the genius, the only way to sustain
That which is beautiful, that which is pure, is to suffer pain.
Winter brings the ice, spring will bring the thaw;
Seasons flow one to the next leaving the earth raw.
Flood will follow frostbite, drought will follow flood,
Then will come the autumn, and the world tinged with blood.