Trees are falling Leaves are sticking Birds don't say nothing Don't say nothing Upon the hill I hear the breeze Whisper soflty in my ears Winter is not coming Is not coming Time is floating Clouds are smothering Drifting to disappear To the disappear One tone, one glow, one side One tune to help in their hide Winter is not coming Is not coming Wind is moaning Pine needle's fading Pills to forget it, to forget it Upon the hill I hear the breeze Whisper softly in my ears Winter is not coming Is not coming