mitten

the cornstalks won't stop talking, i like to listen to the conversation when i'm walking, on the frosty grass, i can see the capacity in my lungs, 'cause my breath lasts, nineteen million acres of color, making a masterpiece before we get another, blank canvas space. seasons switch, everything turns white all over again, it's time to make a quilt for the land, stitching every leaf, every piece, to keep warm underneath, the bugs in the dirt can keep cozy, while the earth above the blanket is changing slowly, this season tends to be the reason for love, and i'm freezing up, i want to fall just like the leaves above, just like the leaves above, well it's the right time to live in a mitten, and oh, i am happy we're in the same glove, hold onto my hands, big enough for both of us to fit in, and oh, i am happy we're in the same glove, there's a whisper, a kiss in the wind, a secret, and a mystical hymn, and it makes me high when i breathe it in, and i feel the vibrations when i listen, crimson, burnt umber, a world that's cover in wonder, the moment inspired by slumber, but then broken by thunder, oh, it's time to make a bond with the land, picking up the pieces made by man, with all the beauty in the palm of your hand, just take a look around, you'll understand, this season tends to be the reason for love, and i'm warming up, we're all together like the leaves below, just like the leaves below, well it's the right time to live in a mitten, and oh, i am happy we're in the same glove, hold onto my hands, big enough for both of us to fit in, and oh, i am happy we're in the same glove, when autumn comes, when autumn comes love, when autumn comes love, we'll follow, when autumn comes love, we'll follow