End Of Summer

Dies the gorgeous summer stillness So I have to face the breeze Now returns the autumn illness What day of the week it is? I lost count of the days In the nonchalance of summer Now its autumnal malaise Who’s the most unwelcome comer? I’d say autumn, if you ask me Winter’s honest with its cold Had I place to go, I’d flee From this autumnal false gold From the withering decay But unfortunately I Have no other place to stay Have no wings for me to fly So what now, a cigarette? But I’ve done my share of fume Out into the cold and wet To the shop, back to the room With a bottle of champagne And a mix of shrimp and mussles Autumn came, and shall remain Drink to see it worth the hassle Though its mid of August now Summer’s gone to meet September Gone is Cupid with his bow Arrows trashed to bonfire embers.