Halloween in New York
On the way home from London
Eight weeks aren't enough still
And all the other winters 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 of Chamblee-Dunwoody Way
I took up his space
When they took your father away

Leaves are turning brown
All over the ground
Leaves make like paper
Make like paper sounds
Leaves are turning brown
All over the ground
Leaves make like paper
Make like paper sounds