From the dew-soaked hedge creeps a crawly caterpillar   When the dawn begins to crack, it's all part of my autumn almanac   Breeze blows leaves of a musty-colored yellow   So I sweep them in my sack, yes, yes, yes, it's my autumn almanac      Friday evenings, people get together   Hiding from the weather, tea and toasted   Buttered currant buns, can't compensate   For lack of sun because the summer's all gone      La la la la, oh my poor rheumatic back   Yes, yes, yes, it's my autumn almanac   La la la la, oh my autumn almanac   Yes, yes, yes, it's my autumn almanac      I like my football on a Saturday   Roast beef on Sundays, all right   I go to Blackpool for my holidays   Sit in the open sunlight      This is my street and I'm never gonna to leave it   And I'm always gonna to stay here if I live to be ninety-nine   'Cause all the people I meet, seem to come from my street   And I can't get away because it's calling me, come on home   Hear it calling me, come on home      La la la la, oh my autumn almanac   Yes, yes, yes, it's my autumn almanac   La la la la, oh my autumn almanac   Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes      Bop bop bop bop bop, whoa   Bop bop bop bop bop, whoa