Halloween in New York
On the way home from London
Eight weeks on tonight still
But all the other winters I spent
She lived in a house
Where Mission Street bends
She slept in a room
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 round
All over the ground
Leaves make like paper
Make like paper sounds
