Autumn leaves crumple beneath my feet,
crinkled and crushed,
wish I could tell you how it feels,
to be over and above.

Putting my conscience to sleep,
another heart I break,
healed you shall be,
a few weeks it would take.

The wind strong in my hair,
blows away the farmer's field,
oh, but why should I care?
there'll be some left to yield.

Time and again going offtrack,
on the phone, you weep,
'Soon, I'll be back.'
another of my promises I won't keep.