Cyrk

Now is not a good time to leave me on my own
And neither will then be a good time
I've always loved the movement of the trees
Find me a place where I can watch the breeze

I'm counting the minutes, 1, 2, 3, and 4
Keeping good company, so what are you crying for?
I've always loved the turning of the screw
Find me a place that I can mold into

People, they change and often come and go
But I'm waving flags for the long haul
I'll always love the summer till I die
Find me a place where little birds fly by