Red maples paint the wooden rail
The morning air is sharp and frail
High Kongo peaks touch greyish sky
While heavy clouds go drifting by
Crimson leaves on a wooden floor
Floating past the open door
Falling down to the river bed
Painting every current red
The temple bell rings out a chime
A heavy beat that marks the time
Old sandals tread the cedar grain
Avoiding drops of autumn rain
Crimson leaves on a wooden floor
Floating past the open door
Falling down to the river bed
Painting every current red
The mountain wind begins to blow
The amber colors start to glow
A single branch begins to sway
Across the bridge in gold and grey
Crimson leaves on a wooden floor
Floating past the open door
Falling down to the river bed
Painting every current red
Cold water swirls in circles deep
While all the forest creatures sleep
The mossy stones are slick and green
The clearest view they've ever seen
Hold the breath and wait for the turn
Watch the summer colors burn
One last spark before the white
Sinks into the winter night
The path is clear and narrow now
The heavy boughs begin to bow
A quiet walk on ancient pine
Where all the autumn colors line
Crimson leaves on a wooden floor
Floating past the open door
Falling down to the river bed
Painting every current red
Paint it red, let it go.
Falling slow, falling slow.
