Lyrics:
October In July

© 2010 by Mary Crowell.

She said,
“Autumn is a scent. It’s carried on the breeze.
I smell October in the rotting leaves –
July in Alabama falling yellow from the trees
Catch on the thready webs the Orb spider weaves.
If you haven’t done your weeding the grass has gotten thick.
Bermuda’s never yielded to the sharpest pick.
Tomatoes getting red now, sagging on the vine.
Noon will last forever in the dread sunshine.”

She said,
“Autumn is the dark. I see it in the shade.
I see October in the shadows on the clay.
July in Alabama, all our colors start to fade
Bleaching in the burning sun’s white-out day.
If you haven’t picked the melons, haven’t looked at all
By now they’ve over-ripened. The asparagus is tall.
Bugs are growing big now hiding in the vine.
Noon will last forever in the dread sunshine.”

Bridge:
I said,
“The hummingbird is still here flying,”
And I heard from her a-no denying.
“I think the summer here is dying
Though it seems to want to stay awhile.”
And I swear I think I saw her smile

She said,
“Autumn is a laughter. It’s flying on the wind.
I hear October though his chuckle’s kind of thin.
July in Alabama fights for summer ‘til the end;
Season’s wheel is creakin’ round to Fall yet again.
If you haven’t thinned the peaches; there are branches on the ground.
The grapes are getting ripe now by the bushel and the pound.
If you listen you can hear them sweeten on the vine.
Noon will last forever in the dread sunshine.”

Bridge:
I told her,
“Everything is gonna rot.

Enjoy the blessings you have got.
Life burn’s quickly. Life burns hot.
And Summer goes away too soon,
Then Autumn sings a darker tune.”

She said,
“Autumn is the cool raising goosebumps on my arm
I feel October though the evening’s still too warm.
July in Alabama, corn’s an ocean on the farm
Gilding days in August with a Midas charm.
If you haven’t cut the blossoms, your basil’s gone to seed.
It’s time to pick blackberries ‘til your fingers bleed.
Better water all your veggies or they’ll shrivel on the vine.
Noon will last forever in the dread sunshine.”

[Instrumental]

She said,
“Autumn is a scent. It’s carried on the breeze.
I smell October in the rotting leaves –