Tell your tales, set yours sails, you're on your way Riding rails past hay bale, never fails. And the sun fell down behind the prairie town, and you're not around. Days are getting longer The season's almost here It's the season to leave but there's no time to grieve. The surf is high and so am I, but where are you? Planets, stars, and moons. Aprils, Mays and Junes. Days are getting longer The season's almost here It's the season to leave but there's no time to grieve. Days are getting longer The season's almost here It's the season to leave but there's no time to grieve. Days are getting longer The season's almost here It's the season to leave but there's no time to grieve. What I need, I won't get. What I hate, I'll forget. What I need, I won't get. What I hate, I'll forget. What I need, I won't get. What I hate, I'll forget. What I need, I won't get. What I hate, I'll forget. What I need, I won't get. What I hate, I'll forget. What I need, I won't get. What I hate, I'll forget.