Time to turn the maple brilliant crimson.
Time to turn the Aspen's sparkling gold.
Time to tumble apples from their branches.
Time to turn the breezes crisp and cold, a chill enfolds the country side.
Kiss of morning mist upon the meadows.
Scent of wood smoke swirling in the air.
Signals that it's high time for the harvest.
Every 'punkin', peach, and prickly pear, with ripened fruit to bear
If you believe in who you are,
who you were always meant to be.
If you open up your heart, then you'll set your spirit free.
In this time of the season, every leaf on every tree, will start to shine,
come and see,
take my hand,
come with me and fly.
Always standing right beside you,
one true friend is there to guide you
to believe in who you are,
who you were always meant to be.
If you open up your heart, then you'll set your spirit free.
In this time of the season, every leaf on every tree, will start to shine,
come and see,
take my hand,
come with me and fly
