It’s the first cold day of autumn, tarnished windows in my car
While everyone is marking time, feels like were getting very far
And our imagination is carried by a song
No strings attached or thoughts concealed
We are old and we are young.
Some think of you in terms of beauty so you say
While they silently admire you, I behold the break of day.
And read papers at the counter, transforming thoughts I try
Fifteen and thirty-seven
Keep in mind I’m rather shy.
And here they come the Freshmen, full of hopes and shallow dreams
Scattered on the pavements lie the old and dusky schemes
Of songs like snow forgotten, dazzling and tremendous lies
Blurts about my virtues
And blurts about your vice.
I might not know what grass is, nor dare I to explain
The mystery of living through the eyes of any saint.
At times it feels like speaking is my visions’ golden twin
When all I’ll do is listen
To the sounds of soul and sin.
Music & Lyrics by John Allen.