If love could fly on silver wings ,
pull fluffy hearts on silver strings

And no dark black clouds could shooo them away ,
and we could live on marshmallow hills ,
sprout silver wings ,
and fly away .

But there is a cold bitter wind in September ,
and the green turns to yellow in the trees ,
for that is when the harvester comes ,
to blow away the leaves .

And you and I won’t matter ,
at least that is what you said ,
but There is a cold wind in September ,
and  it’s freezing in our bed .

Only the Angels stole our wings
from us when we
we’re flying high ,
and those marshmallow hills now seem far away in the sky .
and our silver strings got caught up in our Mandalay ,
and now we have been   left  , strung up    in  the   clouds .

Now here we are ,
all caught up in strings ,
with fluffy hearts ,
and   no diamond rings ,
waiting for the stars to shine ,
Suspended in love ,
forgotten  in time .