Everyone confirms that it hasn't been that bad
But they seem to agree that we've all been had
So what can we do 'til the cavalry comes?
Should we stockpile our drugs or stock up on guns?
These October nights can't figure themselves out
Leaves fall onto the street like words from my mouth
No point, no destination, they just hang around
And I turn the heater on
Then you say with a yawn, "Summer's over"