(John Critchley) I remember, one November we had our picnic At the graveyard down your street On the bodies under our feet And the cold grey ancient autumn ships Looked down without a frown It laughed down without a sound While the sun hit her face in disgrace She doesn't see the competition from the human race Competition from the human race And now you're wondering, where's it going to end And now you're wondering, could we begin again While the laser of immortality, it burns through All our memories, it cuts through what we want to see As we spin on our axes A moment of clarity is all that's required of me And all other places and other times, they're Waving goodbye, goodbye So send me your autumn pledge and please me Till winter time and I'll send you a Springtime boy