The wind whips wistfully once again,
I wander in the willows.
Where were you while I wander in the willows?
Prob'ly picked a pal and put your head upon their pillow.
Until it finds my will, oh I'll be counting to until, oh.
And until it 'comes until, oh, I'll be wand'rin' in the willows.
Wand'rin' in the willows wants me walkin' in the weeds.
Willful killful is the till-full that would plant what please the needs:
A wrapping of our hands before you leave on leaves, the breeze.
'Fore walk with me until oh,
Since we can't stay here in the willows.
And until it comes until oh, we'll be wand'rin' in the willows.
See, what I want won't willow with me if it's wand'rin' in the willows.
Neither will it reach until, oh till it kills, oh this until, oh.
It should me wander back the weeds,
Forget this please, unbreath this breeze,
But you leave, to me alone, this willow feels until oh, see?
And until you come again, until, oh, I'll be wand'rin' in the willows.
The wonderful the willows,
This tragic love until oh.
It may willow.
Hm. I only seem to be able to write like this in autumn.