From the dew-soaked hedge creeps a crawly caterpillar When the dawn begins to crack, it's all part of my autumn almanac Breeze blows leaves of a musty-colored yellow So I sweep them in my sack, yes, yes, yes, it's my autumn almanac Friday evenings, people get together Hiding from the weather, tea and toasted Buttered currant buns, can't compensate For lack of sun because the summer's all gone La la la la, oh my poor rheumatic back Yes, yes, yes, it's my autumn almanac La la la la, oh my autumn almanac Yes, yes, yes, it's my autumn almanac I like my football on a Saturday Roast beef on Sundays, all right I go to Blackpool for my holidays Sit in the open sunlight This is my street and I'm never gonna to leave it And I'm always gonna to stay here if I live to be ninety-nine 'Cause all the people I meet, seem to come from my street And I can't get away because it's calling me, come on home Hear it calling me, come on home La la la la, oh my autumn almanac Yes, yes, yes, it's my autumn almanac La la la la, oh my autumn almanac Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes Bop bop bop bop bop, whoa Bop bop bop bop bop, whoa
