Pray tell, when will you come to be?
Will the temp at last turn chilly?
Or am I just being silly?
One hundred five, I can't survive.
One hundred four, can't take much more.
Enough with the heat, hit delete.
Enough with the heat, I repeat.
Give me a sweater to put on.
Give me long sleeves and pants to don.
You heard me fall, now do your thing!
My summer wear, I long to fling!
I'm tired of shorts, I'm tired of 'flops.
I'm tired of T-shirts and tank tops.
I want to feel the crisp night air.
Deny me this? It isn't fair!
Oh, fall! Oh, autumn! Oh, MG!
Pray tell, when will you come to be?
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