Most of my light bulbs burnt out
The sun hits hard when it shouts
It's when I saw the ragged crane that flew
Everything developed in shades of blue

My favorite Spring ran away
It hides back two years in the lovely shade
Looking back as I walk the stage
The sun hit and burnt the page

With the fox's speed and the rabbit's crutch
I came for expertise, only to learn too much
The crane still flies by most days
But now it's grown and patched, it could never be the same.