The autumn forecast’s looking dismal again
This year I’ll spend November in the house
August sort of stifled your potential didn’t it?
It’s coyness boy that caught you out

I know you wish for fireworks to light your July sky
I was the dampest box of matches you could ever hope to find

I’m sorry what? I hear you yeah
I was watching the skin peeling of your sunburnt shoulders, I know
I know you only melt in the middle like ice cream and sunscreen
Blisters in the pit of my heart, blisters in the pit of my heart

Our birthdays came and went unnoticed again
You said you knew my star sign from the start
That late September sunshine leaves me pining for June
December boy you got it wrong