Halloween in new york
On the way home from london
Eight weeks on tonight still
But all the other winter's i spent
She lived in a house
Where mission street bends
She slept in a room
Where i didn't feel welcome
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 the 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