Red Leaves

Red leaves, red leaves, all down the street
Red leaves don't mean very much to me
Unless those red leaves, red leaves, are under your feet
And you're walking on red leaves, walking next to me
Then I like 'em
Like 'em pretty good.

You left your funky brown jacket on the back of my chair
And I like it, like it, like seeing it there
Red leaves, red leaves, blowing crazy in the wind
I hope you come blowing back to fetch it again
Cos I like ya
Like ya pretty good.

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for dverse poetics...color.