A romantic moon as big as the screen Eats dinner with a lovely, old tree And its craters are holding the lemonade And its branches are serving the soup And their love is not bound to chains For when the day brings dawn The lovely, old tree is left without
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The lovely, old tree sits quietly and waits For the love of its life to return And it droops its leaves with aching sadness Until the pinks and the blues fade into the air And the lover, the moon, is again standing there And its craters are holding the lemonade