On the night that you were born
There was a yellow harvest moon
That beamed down sweet maternal joy
Upon her new born baby boy
The sun himself rose to applause
And all the love there ever was
Seemed to revolve and to compete
To throw rose petals at your feet
You blinked at all the glaring light
And pondered deep into the night
Until one muggy afternoon
Next to a gravel road in June
You noticed that an iron gate
Had overgrown and rusted grate
And beyond an old oak tree
Was swaying gently in the breeze
