Sycamore trees in summertime
Stolen smiles behind shimmering rays
Laying down in fields of gold
Honey wheat and busy bees

Songs of thrushes blackbirds too
A symphony of warbled words
Playing sweet melancholy tunes
To ears that listen intently now

How the earth plays its best
To lovers that rest now
Willing the world to stop
And holding one another's hand

If all the time could be spent
Forever laying here
Then this is where I would love
To end my days amongst heavens play