I love the way the tattered clouds
Blow wind across the sky
The summer goes and leaves me
With a tear in my eye

I'm taking out my winter clothes
My garden knows what is wrong
The petals of my favorite rose
In the shadows dark and long

Though every year, it's very clear
I should be carrying on
But I can be found in the garden
Singing this song
When the last rose of summer is gone
The last rose of summer is gone, gone