Make Way: ‘here comes the sun, and I say, it’s alright’ – beatles

make way for the clouds,
as some etesian wind
would bring them in;
and make way for the falling leaves,
the butterflies of winter’s eve;
summer is dying,
our dear friend is old;
the days of warm and sunny smiles
are soon to catch a cold,
but as we at the bedside lay
and bid to warmth, farewell,
we’ll kneel and bow our heads to pray,
in hopes the clouds dispel,
though when the winter’s had its run,
and spring shall surely rise,
those welcome words,
“Make Way the Sun!”
we’ll shout up to the skies.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s