October, October She thinks that life is what you do while you're waiting to die No skeletons in her closet they're all in public eye Just like the children out hustlin' on Halloween night
But she can do it all even the dead man's crawl Spider lashes and the scent of Fall
Her skin shines like the Moon so high But her mind can be as dark as an overcast sky Her hair falls like leaves of red, brown, and gold Hers is one conversation that should never have been told
Poison is her perfume and her posture's like a penanced priest She's pickin' up the poppies and blowin' them at me She's skating on a skinny sheet of ice across Superior Where life can easily become a hundred feet more deep
We're characters in each other's mythologies Even though we share the same ideologies And as she comes to a close her words will be froze As November takes over and the cold wind blows