Come on now, clear your throat and do your best Sinatra...
The falling leaves drift by the window....
(With a creak and then one almighty thud...)
The autumn leaves of red and gold....
(Of brittle, faded brown...)
I see your lips, the summer kisses
(I see the mess, Autumn's detritus...)
The sunburned hands I used to hold
(Scratched & scabby more like from heaving trees
around...)
Since you I went away the days grow long
(Well a bit shorter over here actually..)
And soon I'll hear old winter's song
(But it'll still be in the high 20s so not to worry...)
But I miss you most of all my darling
(My darling blog readers, naturally...)
When autumn leaves start to fall
(Give us a lift with this one would you?)
(Thanks. Got your chopper handy?)
With apologies to Joseph Kosma; Jacques Prevert, Marie Andre and Johnny Mercer.
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