In regards to the meaning of this song:
Before a live performance on the EP Five Stories Falling, Geoff states “It’s about the last time I went to visit my grandmother in Columbus, and I saw that she was dying and it was the last time I was going to see her. It is about realizing how young you are, but how quickly you can go.”
That’s the thing about Geoff and his sublime poetry, you think it’s about one thing, but really it’s about something entirely different. But the lyrics are still universal and omnipresent, ubiquitous, even. So relatable. That’s one thing I love about this band. I also love their live performances, raw energy and Geoff’s beautiful, imperfectly perfect vocals. His voice soothes my aching soul.
From the dew-soaked hedge creeps a crawly caterpillar
When the dawn begins to crack
It's all part of my autumn almanac
Breeze blows leaves of a musty-colored yellow
So I sweep them in my sack
Yes, yes, yes, it's my autumn almanac
Friday evenings, people get together
Hiding from the weather
Tea and toasted, buttered currant buns
Can't compensate for lack of sun
Because the summer's all gone
La-la-la-la, la-la-la-la
Oh, my poor rheumatic back
Yes, yes, yes, it's my autumn almanac
La-la-la-la, la-la-la-la
Oh, my autumn almanac
Yes, yes, yes, it's my autumn almanac
I like my football on a Saturday
Roast beef on Sundays, all right
I go to Blackpool for my holidays
Sit in the open sunlight
This is my street, and I'm never gonna leave it
And I'm always gonna to stay here
If I live to be ninety-nine
'Cause all the people I meet
Seem to come from my street
And I can't get away
Because it's calling me (come on home)
Hear it calling me (come on home)
La-la-la-la, la-la-la-la
Oh, my autumn Armagnac
Yes, yes, yes, it's my autumn almanac
La-la-la-la, la-la-la-la
Oh, my autumn almanac
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes
Bop-bop-boom-bop-bop-boom-bop-bop-boom-bop-bop-boom (whoa!)
Yes, yes
When the dawn begins to crack
It's all part of my autumn almanac
Breeze blows leaves of a musty-colored yellow
So I sweep them in my sack
Yes, yes, yes, it's my autumn almanac
Friday evenings, people get together
Hiding from the weather
Tea and toasted, buttered currant buns
Can't compensate for lack of sun
Because the summer's all gone
La-la-la-la, la-la-la-la
Oh, my poor rheumatic back
Yes, yes, yes, it's my autumn almanac
La-la-la-la, la-la-la-la
Oh, my autumn almanac
Yes, yes, yes, it's my autumn almanac
I like my football on a Saturday
Roast beef on Sundays, all right
I go to Blackpool for my holidays
Sit in the open sunlight
This is my street, and I'm never gonna leave it
And I'm always gonna to stay here
If I live to be ninety-nine
'Cause all the people I meet
Seem to come from my street
And I can't get away
Because it's calling me (come on home)
Hear it calling me (come on home)
La-la-la-la, la-la-la-la
Oh, my autumn Armagnac
Yes, yes, yes, it's my autumn almanac
La-la-la-la, la-la-la-la
Oh, my autumn almanac
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes
Bop-bop-boom-bop-bop-boom-bop-bop-boom-bop-bop-boom (whoa!)
Yes, yes
Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings
Autumn Almanac Lyrics as written by Raymond Douglas Davies
Lyrics © Abkco Music Inc.
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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