November
November
The roses are no longer brilliant red
Some have faded, most are dead
The roses are no longer brilliant red
The rains are coming on and it is cold
Some get lonely, some get old
The rains are coming on and it is cold
Nights are long and sharper than a knife
Season of the end of life
Nights are long and sharper than a knife
All the birds except the crows are gone
None are left to sing the song
All the birds except the crows are gone
Leaves are falling from the silent trees
Fall and tumble in the breeze
Leaves are falling from the silent trees
Barren branches reach out to the sky
Beneath the lonely crows that fly
Barren branches reach out to the sky
As you slip away into the fall
Wonder what commands it all
As you slip away into the fall
As the rain pours from the dreary sky
Watch the cold November fly
As the rain pours from the dreary sky
The roses are no longer brilliant red
Some have faded, most are dead
The roses are no longer brilliant red
The rains are coming on and it is cold
Some get lonely, some get old
The rains are coming on and it is cold
Nights are long and sharper than a knife
Season of the end of life
Nights are long and sharper than a knife
All the birds except the crows are gone
None are left to sing the song
All the birds except the crows are gone
Leaves are falling from the silent trees
Fall and tumble in the breeze
Leaves are falling from the silent trees
Barren branches reach out to the sky
Beneath the lonely crows that fly
Barren branches reach out to the sky
As you slip away into the fall
Wonder what commands it all
As you slip away into the fall
As the rain pours from the dreary sky
Watch the cold November fly
As the rain pours from the dreary sky


1 Comments:
It's been a while since I've been here, I know I've read it all on Westgate, but it's nice to review this stuff. Your work kind of makes me realise what a spoiled brat I am, and how I have it so good, from a statistical percpective.
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