Pete Quaife - Autumn Almanac lyrics

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-coloured 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, bu*tered currant buns Can't compensate for lack of sun Because the summer's all gone La-la-la-la Oh, my poor rheumatic back Yes, yes, yes, it's my autumn almanac 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 to 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 Oh, my autumn Armagnac Yes, yes, yes, it's my autumn almanac La-la-la-la Oh, my autumn almanac Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes Bop-bop-bopm-bop-bop, whoa! Bop-bop-bopm-bop-bop, whoa!