Pull over your grey cotton blend,
So November comes again,
I got a text from my landlord,
Clearly we're a neighborhood threat!
God forbid a breath of passion bleeds,
though the drywall, yellow leaves,
I'm sorry the thing that keeps, us all sane,
Is your disease!
Is there anyone you can please?
I wanna be like the bees,
who dedicate their lives to loving flowers!
Drifting in an autumn breeze I wanna be like the leaves,
In November!
Well bury your nose in a boring bed,
Of sheets of paper you know you dread,
Slacker year, not the best,
Is this gunna be on the test?
Well god forbid that I had some time,
To clear the cobwebs in my mind,
The future balances on your back,
And every road is like a cul-de-sac!
Oh I wanna be like the sun,
That can spit out a ton,
Despite all the gravity and growing pressure!
Drowning in a cotton shroud I wanna be like the clouds,
In November!
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