Now comes love, the sweetest apple
on the farthest branch.
So beautiful like a young pear tree
from France.
Now, I am not reading my life away,
flitting from branch to branch with a book,
my love is a nest in paradise that
somehow I overlooked,
for some reason, I turned a blind eye.
Now comes love like spring to the woods
Now love comes like Krishna with his flute
She looks up at me with that bold Italian look,
I am totally, wonderfully surprised and now
it's time to come back down to earth
and she's the reason why.
Apples on my breath and sinewy green hands,
I was the baron in the trees, she's the
way through the woods.
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