Here we come to a turning of the season witness to the arc towards the sun the neighbors blessed burden within reason becomes a burden borne of all in one but nobody nobody knows let the yoke fall from our shoulders don't carry it all don't carry it all we are all our hands in holders but meet this bold and brilliant sun but this I swear to all A monument to build beneath the arbors upon a cliff the that towers towards the trees but every vessel pitching hard to starboard lay it's head on summers freckled knees and nobody nobody knows let the yoke fall from our shoulders don't carry it all don't carry it all we are all our hands in holders beneath this bold and brilliant sun this I swear to all this I swear to all Buried wreath of trillium and ivy laid upon the body of the boy lazy will the long come from it's hiding return his quiet certitude to the soil so raise a glass to turnings of the season and watch it as it arcs towards the sun and you must bear your neighbors burden within reason and your labors will be borne when all is done and nobody nobody knows let the yoke fall from our shoulders don't carry it all don't carry it all we are all our hands in holders beneath this bold and brilliant sun and this I swear to all and this I swear to all and this I swear to all and this I swear to all to all to all to all