Hugh Blumenfeld - Talking Island lyrics

Sweet October, everything comes down

And the ghosts outside are rattling the storms

And the drunkards think they're sober

And the lovers think they're drowning

And the songs of spring are bitter wings to them

A touch of snow, a sudden end to evenings

Dark falls on the daylight like a crow

Sweet October and the mountain roads are empty now

And I'm coming home

Sweet October, everything comes down

Copyright 1995, Hugh Blumenfeld Hydrogen Jukebox Music