Текст песни Talking Island

Sweet October, everything comes down And the ghosts outside are rattling the storms And the drunkards think they're sober and the lovers think they're drowning And the songs of spring are bitter wings to them A touch of snow, a sudden end to evenings Dark falls on the daylight like a crow Sweet October and the mountain roads are empty now And I'm coming home Sweet October, everything comes down Copyright 1995, Hugh Blumenfeld Hydrogen Jukebox Music