Every autumn below tall grand trees.
You'll hear a sound, louder than bees.
It's a song you see of little creatures,
Little chestnuts with human features.
They have arms and legs and faces too.
If you creep up quietly they won't see you.
You'll hear them sing, of Chestnut New Year.
And throw leaves up high, far and near.
"It's Chestnut New Year, new chestnuts are sworn.
We'll sing and dance until the very next morn'
Some old chestnuts die, but we will not mourn.
For they go back to the earth and a new tree is born.
We'll run through the woods and have fun all the way.
No less than fun is had here each day.
We swear an oath to always wear a smile,
And a happy life lead among the leaf pile."
They'll sing their song deep in the woods
and laugh and play until the Chestnut tree buds.
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