Halloween in New York

On the way home from London

Eight weeks on tonight still

But all the other winters I spent



She lived in a house

Where Mission Street bends

She slept in a room



Leaves are turning brown

All over the ground

Leaves make like paper

Make like paper sounds



Way back, back then

I considered you my best friend

But the last time I saw you

I knew I'd never see you again



You lived in a place

Off of Chamblee-Dunwoody Way

I took up his space

When they took your father away



Leaves are turning round

All over the ground

Leaves make like paper

Make like paper sounds