[Intro] (Delicate fingerpicked acoustic guitar, intimate room sound) [Verse 1] It’s eighty degrees in the middle of October The trees don't know if they should sleep or stay sober The leaves are turning yellow but the air is burning hot A confusing kind of season that the calendar forgot I'm sitting on the porch with a glass of iced tea Looking at a world that feels slightly out of key No wind in the branches, no chill in the breeze Just a heavy summer ghost haunting the autumn trees [Chorus] And the seasons are blurring, they're losing their lines A beautiful mistake in the natural designs I’m wearing a sweater but I'm sweating in the sun Waiting for the proper kind of winter to begun Yeah, the weather is broken, but the light is so clear A strange kind of magic at the ending of the year [Verse 2] I went to the piano and I played a C chord Just to feel the vibration ring through the wooden board The acoustic hammer striking, a purely physical thing A beautiful analog resonance caught in the string No wires, no power, just the tension and the wood Sounding exactly like a melancholy piano should I wrote down a lyric in a notebook on the stand Trying to capture the heat with a heavy, tired hand [Chorus] And the seasons are blurring, they're losing their lines A beautiful mistake in the natural designs I’m wearing a sweater but I'm sweating in the sun Waiting for the proper kind of winter to begun Yeah, the weather is broken, but the light is so clear A strange kind of magic at the ending of the year [Outro] Just wait for November. The cold will come back. Let the ice melt. (Fingerpicking slows down, one final warm piano note)
