trees of autumn fire yellow, brown and red sinking in the mire bowing down their heads whispering that all things ceases to exist apple cores and smoke rings lovers in the mist
remember what you came in here for that he had to go sooner than you'll know you're an open door to an empty store fill the shelves again fill them while you can
in comes the intruder our least expected guest he tiptoes like a cougar and finds us at our best struggling for protraction seasons in the sun (one more season in the sun) begging for one last fraction of what we had begun
remember what you came in here for that the bells will toll sooner than you know you're an open door to an empty store fill the shelves again fill them while you can
with a list in his mind and a hole in his eye and a hood on his head and our time on his side and a scythe in his hand and a broad smiling face and a hovering walk and a bend on his back he has come to collect