November کے بول

It's alright momma, it's so good to see you. We've been out hiding for such a long time. Lonesome hillsides so brown in November, But you'll stay the same for your whole life. The tragic churchbells rang for free, hollowed out for you and me. I was drunk sunday so I don't remember, Images come flowing like a river so wide. I was on a rooftop when I first discovered, That you hold all your pain like a cannon inside. Under revolution clouds, you fight to come up and I fight to come down. Every time we find something peaceful, I have to go and tear it all down. But the weather don't lie, babe, and you can't either, Ever since you came to this faithless town. Your darkened debt don't bother me, It blinds me like the morning sun.