Swirling in silk scarves, wisps of perfumed hair, and curls of incense, the witch arranged the accoutrements of the evening. It felt good to have the nights cool again, the wind against a downy nape, the wind lifting a woolen cape. This is the fun part of fall – the cool anticipation, the first relief – by the end we’ll have hardened ourselves off to the cold, resigned and reconditioned to the numb about to come. For now, it’s exciting and dramatic, a turn from the carefree summer, a stinging bit of sweet poison that goes too easily down the throat.
Now here I go again
I see the crystal visions
I keep my visions to myself
It’s only me who wants to wrap around your dreams
And have you any dreams you’d like to sell?
Dreams of loneliness
Thunder only happens when it’s rainin’
Players only love you when they’re playin’
Women, they will come and they will go
When the rain washes you clean, you’ll know
Oh, thunder only happens when it’s rainin’
Players only love you when they’re playin’
Say women, they will come and they will go
When the rain washes you clean, you’ll know
You’ll know
You will know
Oh, you’ll know
All fall magicks and enchantments, all mysterious Oud and intoxicating incense, all smoke and mirrors and silken scarves slipping so seductively around the neck, so soft and soothing you don’t notice the tightening cords as they so smoothly strangle the life from a soul so tired from summer.
