It’s fall, and I can’t feel it
How it hurts me just to say
Though I fear that hurt is not the word
I long to know even pain
It’s fall, and I can’t feel it
Or smell it, or want it to come
It’s fall, now more than ever, I wish that I were young

The crunch of leaves beneath bare feet at seven was so sweet
And the sting of a lingering bee was harsh enough to make me weep
But, oh, how nothing can compare
In this world so dull
To the scent that overtook the air
When came a blessed fall
Better than roses, or fruits, or the crook of my mother’s neck
The smell of decaying summer was an intoxicating scent

Well, summer’s come and gone this year
And fall is brewing rich
But I have yet to shed a tear
Or to be granted any wish

It’s fall, and I can’t feel it
Why must it be this way?
I wish for fall to be so fragrant
As I found it yesterday.