Don't tell me
there's something there
All the leaves are turning
there's something there
on the last good day of the year
don't know where I end and where you begin
that you get sick of living
when the summer's so forgiving
although we have stolen
all of the things
that we thought we had owned them
have disappeared
all these things in flavour
won't do you no favours
when the summer's light is fragrant with scents of returning
you relent, you resent, now you're burning
for nothing to change
amongst the fallen fruit and flowers
won't rest
only minutes, only hours
unless
now the morning breaks in showers
I guess
we'll remember this all of our lives
on the last good day of the year
Autumn's fingers burnished
furnished here in hope and in faith in the meantime
Kinda working my way through a dream
I was having alone
amongst the fallen fruit and flowers
won't rest
only minutes, only hours
unless
now the morning breaks in showers
I'm left
with the north wind breathing down my neck
