- cifra
The Woods are getting naked
and the weather is getting colder
I can feel this fall deep inside my bones
I hear the call of the birds
they are going to leave us
I wonder how they know their destination
The woods are turnin' colours
the wilderness is shining
the north prepares for winter,
'cause it will be cruel
The birds calling gether
they are going to leave us
I always wonder how they know where to fly
