Singing To The Flowers

Singing to the flowers.
Sing in the sunshine showers.
King without powers.
Sing in the sunshine showers.

Clouds are the only
friends for the lonely,
old in the golden sunset.

High in the red sky,
rust like a bled sky.
Soon I must head for my bed.

Waving at the flowers.
Gone are the sunshine showers.
Yellow magic powers
lost in the frost of night.