Texxty na litere -

(John Critchley)

I remember, one November we had our picnic
At the graveyard down your street
On the bodies under our feet
And the cold grey ancient autumn ships
Looked down without a frown
It laughed down without a sound

While the sun hit her face in disgrace
She doesn't see the competition from the human race
Competition from the human race

And now you're wondering, where's it going to end
And now you're wondering, could we begin again
While the laser of immortality, it burns through
All our memories, it cuts through what we want to see

As we spin on our axes
A moment of clarity is all that's required of me
And all other places and other times, they're
Waving goodbye, goodbye
So send me your autumn pledge and please me
Till winter time and I'll send you a
Springtime boy