When the skies become ashen and sober
And the leaves become withered and sere,
Then I know it's that month of October,
And I know it's that time of the year.
When I see all the trees bare and mellow
And I start to see pumpkins carved out,
When the trees shed their leaves red and yellow
And with them pave the ground all about,
When I feel all four winds by me blowing
And encircling, beswiriling my being
When I feel these four winds through me flowing
and in passing, my tired spirit freeing,
Yes when winds they do lift up my spirit
And they carry it up over all,
Then I'm joyful, that I need not fear it.
For I love this sweet season of fall!