Grows steady beneath the sun
A child's need to see and run
Accompanied by the trumpets that live in the summer ease
And the cool breeze
From the high mountain trees
It's arousing
The view
And at sight of you
Golden rays start blushing
Ain't no use in fussin'
Tip-toeing around the sacred mess
I shall never want more nor less
Than this view
And the arousing sight of you.