Chickadee tosses leaves out of her nester My uncle's uncle's uncles fester To chesnutt's empty sound One by one they hit the ground It's fall and it's warm And i've got a sweater Tell me nothing nothing's better The flowers wilt from the weight of the leaves But it's not the cold It's the dryness That makes it so, (groovy) Believe you me Believe me you Let it roll God cues his trees to drop their load I've got some used cowboy boots You've got some weed It's a noisy cracked accumulation Of golden brown, mr. Brown's first born Can anyone get it It's not too obvious Two friends locked in a dutch romance It's the angry middle aged distraction Your postman stumbles in the yard With a message long You communicate through song And take it up with the vicar Believe you me Believe me you Grateful for the score The nuts today you store Could come in handy in the future