From the rise of the gray Cape
You could see down below
On the soft orange tundra plain
Two swans for every pond
Two swans for every pond

As if the celestial rental agent
Kept a list of accommodations
That clearly stated
Two swans to a pond
Two swans to a pond

How do they know returning
When they left with the snow coming
Which is theirs for mating?
Two swans in a pond
Two swans in a pond

Life is so neatly organized
Under the Midnight sun
Things are what they are
And need not be any more
Two swans glimmer upon each pond