Autumn

Corrected lyrics and better formatting [accoeding to cb book, of course]:

Driven through by her own sword Summer died last night, alone. Even the ghosts huddle up for warmth. Autumn has come to my hometown

Friendly voices, dead and gone, singing, Star of the country down... (even the ghosts help raise the barn, here, now, in my hometown)

-when, out of the massing that bodes and bides, in the cold west, flew a waxwing, who froze and died against my breast! And all the while, rain, like a weed in the tide, swans and lists, down on the gossiping lawn, saying, "tsk, tsk, tsk".

I may have changed. It's hard to gauge. Time won't account for how I've aged. Would I could tie your lying tongue, who says that leaving keeps you young.

I have got no control over my heart, over my mind. Over the hills, the rainclouds roll. I'll winter here, wait for a sign.

To cast myself out, over the water, riven like a wishbone. You'd hardly guess I was my own mother's daughter; I ain't naturally given to roam. I lay low, when I return, and I move like a gurney whose wheels are squeaking, alone, here in my home, and I laugh, when you speak of my pleasure-seeking among the tall pines, along the lay-lines. Here, where the loon keens. There, where the moon leans. There, where I know my violent love lays down, in a row of silent, dove-gray days. Here, in a row of silent, dove-gray days.

Wherever I go, I am snowbound by thoughts of him whom I would sun. I loved them all, one by one. Cannot gain ground, cannot outrun; but time marches along. You can't always stick around. But, when the final count is done, I will be in my hometown. I will be in my hometown.

I think this is a fairly straight-forward song concerning her as a person, not the musician. She's consistent in stating that she is not a roamer and finds touring and world-travel unlike her. She'd prefer to stay in her home, collecting antiques, playing harp and sleeping into the evening. I remember an early interview with JN in 2004 when she said that if the music didn't work out her dream job would be somewhere close to her hometown in a doo-dad or antique shoppe.

I believe when you begin interacting with other people (in this situation, romantically) people drum up ideas of you. "I laugh when you speak of my pleasure-seeking ways." Many people who come into contact with you may think you are something different than you are. Oh, so you are a harpist/songwriter who tours the world. You must love that. But, I don't think it's that cut and dry. She loves making music and sharing it, I guess. But I think people can begin to mistake you for seeking out that sort of gypsy life for yourself and bending you into a caricature. Later, in 'Ribbon Bows' she specifies that she is not like that - but she can pass. Honey, she sure can pass.

That's all I think 'Autumn' is about, really. Tho I do think it's a bit of an elegy of sorts.

She paints such a beautiful portrait of returning to Nevada City and being overwhelmed by the changes there and in her own life - as if her hometown was a mirror into her soul. I think Good Intentions alludes to some of the same emotions - as does In California and perhaps Occident.

This verse says it best:

I may have changed. It's hard to gauge. Time won't account for how I've aged. Would I could tie your lying tongue, who says that leaving keeps you young.

I find the fact that she weaves birds into a lot of her poetry very romantic... it's not so much a 'lovey dovey' kind of romantic... no it's more of a 'the pictures she paints are painfully beautiful' kind of thing spiders, birch, bones, and birds.. lovely lovely lovely

Lovely song although I was a bit confused when she said "Friendly voices, dead and gone, singing, Star of the country down." as Down is actually a county in Ireland. But apparently you can say star of the country down aswell

I did some intense research (went to the Wikipedia page on waxwings...) and found this little couplet from the book "Pale Fire" by Nabokov:

I was the shadow of the waxwing slain By the false azure in the windowpane

Joanna has talked about being a big Nabokov fan in several interviews, so I don't think it's too big of a stretch to say this (plus the whole "bird flies into window" section of "Only Skin") might be related to the book.

The 'By thoughts of him, whom I would shun.' (who or whom, can't really tell, guess it's a question of grammar). took a few listens to figure out that she wasn't talking about runes or shine or sun :-)

this song could just as easily be narrated by joanna herself. it's incredibly beautiful, although I think that, as one of the more understated songs on the album, it will tend to go unnoticed on the first few listens. once the song sets in and you really begin to appreciate it, however, it is incredibly haunting and lovely.

i'm going to stick with the interpretation of the album as one whole story, and assume that it's the same narrator telling this one, and not joanna. her description of her hometown shows that she perceives it as both a dismal ghost-town and strangely beautiful at once. she reminisces about her relationship: “would I could tie your lying tongue...”

this is also one of two songs in the album in which the narrator stresses how unlike her mother she is. perhaps this is why being home makes her uncomfortable. as seen in “ribbon bows”, her mother does not approve of her and her life choices.