Lover, your hands are all full of rain 
And they drip from the tip like a branch in the spring
My feather of a song, how it does long
For just the touch of the tip of your fingers to my lips
Brother, you stood as tall as the pines
As the skyscrapers do, they hold up the blue
And you pushed up the sun, everyday at the dawn
All the way across the sky until you fell right into the night
August missed June
She left him too soon
He said, I will wait for you
They were divided by the fourth of July
He said, I will wait for you
How I thirst for September first
He said, I will wait for you
For you, June, my dear
August missed June
She left him too soon
He said, I will wait for you
For you, June, my dear