Whenever it’s December
and I think about the year,
both the one that’s almost over
and the one that’s nearly here,

I recall how, in the springtime,
all of nature was transformed,
as the flowers started blooming
and the winter weather warmed.

Then the summer followed springtime;
how the months went by so fast!
I had thought the long and sunny days
would last, and last, and last.

But the summer turned to autumn
and the leaves began to blow.
I could tell that pretty soon
we would be blanketed in snow.

Now it’s once again December
and the days are growing colder.
I’m another twelve months wiser
and another twelve months older.

And I dream about the new year
and the old one I remember.
It’s the way I like to celebrate
whenever it’s December.