Chickadee tosses leaves out of her nester 

My uncle's uncle's uncles fester 

To chesnutt's empty sound 

One by one they hit the ground 

It's fall and it's warm 

And i've got a sweater 


Tell me nothing nothing's better 

The flowers wilt from the weight of the leaves 

But it's not the cold 

It's the dryness 

That makes it so, (groovy) 


Believe you me 

Believe me you 

Let it roll 

God cues his trees to drop their load 

I've got some used cowboy boots 

You've got some weed 


It's a noisy cracked accumulation 

Of golden brown, mr. Brown's first born 

Can anyone get it 

It's not too obvious 

Two friends locked in a dutch romance 


It's the angry middle aged distraction 

Your postman stumbles in the yard 

With a message long 

You communicate through song 

And take it up with the vicar 


Believe you me 

Believe me you 

Grateful for the score 

The nuts today you store 

Could come in handy in the future