Autumn scuffs across the earth, leaves it patched and brown, Holds his cap to catch the acorns, falling to the ground, Watches as the wild geese wheel up their landing gear, Sees a nipping wind whirl red and yellow leaf around.
Helmet so blue on my head If you weren't there I'd be dead.
Little Boy Blue hangs from a tree upside down what does he see? Secrets unknown to those who stand straight If I bend, I could see. It's never too late.