The wind dies down, the setting sun
Crochets the clouds with yarn so fine
And fills the oceans with red win
The trees, the sky, the forest fair
Bring a flavor to the air
I raise my glass and in a while
You answer with a secret smile
Hold on, hold on to me
An airborne leaf that landed near Has carried Dionysus here
He'll slip away but only when
He sees our glasses filled again
Sometimes when the evening's young The wind dies down, the setting sun Crochets the clouds with yarn so fine And fills the oceans with red win The trees, the sky, the forest fair Bring a flavor to the air I raise my glass and in a while You answer with a secret smile Hold on, hold on to me An airborne leaf that landed near Has carried Dionysus here He'll slip away but only when He sees our glasses filled again Explain Request ×
Lyrics taken from
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