The month of October

Do you remember the month of October
the way the air hung
to thick to cut with a knife
And are you suspended
like a puppet on strings
with nothing good to do with your life.
Are you wary of the month of October
because when the cold comes you have to remember
the picture you painted with your brushstrokes so high
so high so high.
My fears have rooted much deeper
they once were in sand
now they're down in spit wet cement
I wish i could come clean
but there are some things
that your heart wont let you forget.
Are you wary of the month of October
because when the cold comes you have to remember
the picture you painted with your brushstrokes so high
so high so high.
I remember
oh I remember
I remember it well.
Do you remember
do you remember,
remember the way that you fell.
I remember the way that you fell.
And I'm wary of the month of October
because when the cold comes I have to remember
the picture I painted with my brushstrokes so high
so high so high.