Haunted Days

These are haunted days; Bonfire-scented autumn days. Someone's slipped away, And someone's thoughts are all in one place. These are haunted days; The year is facing its old age. I met her from work at three to see her home So she could catch some sleep. Everything's a little Everything's a little - thrown. I watched her cry for someone I didn't know. You can sense it on the wind, The wind that sets the trees to singing – Hear them whispering how someone's gone, Someone's missing. These are haunted days, Sad and golden, underplayed. I met her on Oxford Street to see her home So she could catch some sleep. These are haunted days; Bonfire-scented autumn days. You can't fix everything that breaks, And someone's thoughts are all in one place.