When I look out my window
What do I see

And when I look in my window
So many different people to be
That it's strange 
So strange

You've got to pick up every stitch 
The rabbits running in a ditch
The hippies out to make it rich
Oh no 
Must be the season of the witch 
Must be the season of the witch 
Must be the season of the witch 
Must be the season of the witch 

Well, when I look over my shoulder,
What do I see

And when I look over my shoulder
Some ancient fella that I long to be
It's so strange 
So strange 

You've got to pick up every stitch 
To rights that's running in a ditch
The hippies out to make it rich
Oh no 
Must be the season of the witch 
Must be the season of the witch 
Must be the season of the witch 
Must be the season of the witch 

And here we sit emerged in a liquid sea of love, shimmering rainbows
and silver skies above a looking-glass that reflects a past. Tied with 
seaweed all around like willows upside-down, you caress my heart, 
caress my soul, surround my limbs, you laugh your laugh and hold my body 
fast. And we wake up, sit here thinking, thinking about the times we used
to have, and know they're gone forever, we'll never learn, never learn.

Help me. Somebody, help him.

As I look over my shoulder
What do I see
And as I look over my shoulder
There's so many pretty sights to see
That it's strange
So strange 

You've got to pick up every stitch 
You've got to pick up every stitch 
Those hippies out to make it rich
Oh no 
Must be the season of the witch 
Must be the season of the witch 
Must be the season of the witch 

Please, have mercy on my soul!

Be the season of the witch

Gone! Gone, hey! If you can't help us, you'd better listen. Please?
Mama, I'm cold.