I'll close my eyes
So I won't see
The fiery leaves of the sourwood tree
And if I try
Perhaps I'll find
A few more berries left on the vine
No no no no no
It's not time; It's not time
No no no no no
It's not time; It's not time
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I will pretend
The Joe-Pye weed's
The very first flower to bloom in spring
The white flesh
Of the apple seems
An awful lot like a July peach
No no no no no
It's not time; It's not time
No no no no no
It's not time; It's not time
And if I wake
Before the sun
Troubles take my thoughts and run
Where do we go
After we are gone?
Is it south with the birds or east to the dawn?
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No no no no no
It's not time; It's not time
No no no no no
It's not time; It's not time
I'll close my eyes
So I won't see
The fiery leaves of the sourwood tree