| Autumn has come to play, what a day.
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| The sycamore trees are shakin' off their leaves.
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| Witness this inevitable attraction, in action,
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| as the ground is covered with love from above.
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| I could stand out here for hours
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| being christened by the showers,
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| but the day is slippin' away,
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| and I ain’t even begun to play,
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| so I stroll to the square
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| to join the pack kickin' the sack.
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| The sky is three different shades of gray
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| and I don’t mind to say
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| it’s my favorite kind of day.
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| I don’t know what’s come over me,
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| but suddenly all I can see
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| is the beauty that surrounds me.
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| The sun arrives late on the scene,
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| peering between the evergreens,
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| and all along the branches,
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| the elegant light silently dances.
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| The wind whispered in my ear
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| and quick as it came it disappeared,
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| but I heard it loud and clear.
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| So many people are unaware
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| of what it is they have to share,
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| and the value therein
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| is not a thing to be measured by men.
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| I don’t know what’s goin' on with me,
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| but suddenly all I can see
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| is the beauty that surrounds me. |