Summer’s almost gone, Summer’s almost gone, Almost gone,
Yeah, it’s almost gone. Where will we be. When the summer’s gone?

Morning found us calmly unaware, Noon burned gold into our hair,
At night we swam at laughin’ sea, When summer’s gone, where will we be?
Where will we be? Where will we be?

The Doors – Summer’s Almost Gone , Live 1967 at the Matrix