The lemon tree, it weeps so low,
For lovers lost, and shadows grow.
The river flows, a silver thread,
Where whispered vows, forever fled.
Oh, the lemon tree, it knows it all,
Of lovers' tears, and autumn's fall.
Of promises, like leaves that fly,
And dreams that fade beneath the sky.
The moon above, a silver tear,
Reflects the grief, and fading year.
The crickets chirp, a mournful sound,
Where happiness, no more is found.
Oh, the lemon tree, it knows it all,
Of lovers' tears, and autumn's fall.
Of promises, like leaves that fly,
And dreams that fade beneath the sky.
But hope remains, a tiny spark,
A flicker bright, in darkest dark.
For spring will come, and birds will sing,
And life will bloom, on gentle wing.
Oh, the lemon tree, it knows it all,
Of lovers' tears, and autumn's fall.
Of promises, like leaves that fly,
And dreams that fade beneath the sky.
Yet still it stands, the lemon tree,
A symbol strong, of memory.
A reminder soft, of love's sweet grace,
And time's slow hand, upon this place.
