Peter Wolf Crier Lion
Winter's come You say you're leaving It doesn't make much sense now that you're gone But I could risk a sorry As a fool would not be so hearty And maybe J could be your lion One who foresees you walking out. Spring had come You] said you owe me It does not make much sense to act full grown As clouds became but parted A return to where things started As maybe I could be your lion One who retreats when called upon again.
