 If I told you that the summer starts |
 in the depths of cold, cold winter... |
 would you ever conceive, believe this unlikely mechanism? |
 Hurts to think that winter's spike |
 comes so hard after fall |
 and before the spring |
 giving evolutionary rise |
 to such beauty where summer lies... |
 It's an enterprize |
 in the fantastic burst of color: |
 steady as she goes |
 from year to year... |
