• The wind is turning crisp and cold,
    and the leaves begin to turn.
    The Earth sheds its skin.
    Only to be reborn.

    Thus starts a count down,
    a count down to fingerprints,
    and little toes.

    A little one who's name glows.
    Who dances with the stars.
    And lives within my soul.

    Oh how unknown,
    my little Capricorn.
    You live within the cold.