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The Summer Sun

In this old town, they'll talk to anyone
Lead you by the hand, steal away your fun

So where do I go from here now, tell me
It's not clear to me
Oh, tell me

The north wind blows and it chills me to my soul
Better times will come, and lead me to my home

So where do I go from here now, tell me
It's not clear to me
Oh, tell me

Now winter's here and it chills me to my soul
Better times will come, and rescue me I'm told

So where do I go from here now, tell me
It's not clear to me

What happened to the summer sun?

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