He lives in autumn
Scarecrows and cornfields are wasting away
They've only met three times
Scarecrows and cornfields are wasting away
A lot of people ask me, "What's your favorite song of yours?". This is it.
She's an ocean
No...she's a song
She's the lotion
I've been running through my hands
Just like a grape stem
Dripping on the vine
She's a doorknob
Take a turn and go
With a leaf-drop
He wears his headphones
To drown out all the sound
Come November
He'll be dropping off his semen
And tired of being alone again
Like a snowman basking in the sun
Be sure to send a postcard if the seasons change
Cause my own decreation gets me by
And each time it's a gas
He keeps wishing her away
She's an object
She has a master
She keeps wanting him to stay dumb
Like a snowman basking in the sun
Be sure to send a postcard when the seasons change
Cause my own decreation gets me by
It gets me by
It gets me by
Goodbye
Mike Garrigan on
"November":
Lyrics gathered by M. Gross
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