The Fox sang a song of autumn and leaving,
of leaving behind his cherry-red coat
and cunningly thought instead of adorning,
his skin with the leaves left behind by the trees.
He crooned: “Let’s trade, let’s trade, let’s trade for some time
my cherry-red coat for some pawfuls of leaves.
When I lie on the ground no one will see me,
yet when I choose to walk they will all look at me,
look at me to admire my colourful coat.
When Winter arrives my new coat won’t betray me,
for the leaves will turn brown and my colour will change,
until the leaves start to rot and with them I’ll be rotting,
I’ll finally be able to lie down for good,
but I’ll have bought me some time by trading my coat,
my cherry-red coat for some pawfuls of leaves.

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