(Yes, there’s an ‘x’ in there, somewhere)
It’s an early sunshine morning
On High Street once again
In summer’s final frantic fuss
A chill has crept into the air
Winds are blowing clouds above
Setting the stage for autumn’s makeover
When leaves transform to xanthic
From their natural luscious jade
On the telephone lines
Sit nature’s music-makers
Where high notes of a rhapsody
Are composed each day from dawn
In wonder and awe I’ve watched
A pure symphonic score
Grow in range and depth
From Cee to Gee and back again
At first a simple finger-tapped warble
Filled but one line of score
Yet as the each day grew shorter
A fresh new line added rhythm to the tune
To me the growing melody
Harmonised airs of glockenspiel
As fine-tuned demis, semis and sharps
Performed before their migrant flight
The fascination was complete
As they perfected their score
Not quite, move left, no right
Make room you lot
Down on line four
Not that much
Close up again
That’s right
We’re almost perfect
Sing the tune in harmony
We’ve a long way yet to go
We’re done
It’s there
In time
Chill has now
Crept into the air
It’s time to leave the telephone line
It’s time to move the music
It’s time for us to sky out
For yet another year
It’s time to seek those warmer climes
It’s time to bid adieu
It’s time to bring our curtain down
On this our goodbye song
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