Autumn comin' early
Summer comin' late
what can a poor soul do
'n' Arty says the leaves'll
fall in May
'n' We'll be swimmin'
in a sea of blue
bells ringin' too
for those chosen few

'n' Arty says the things
they're doin' up north
don't flatter Mother Nature none
says that what she's given
she can take including
every single mother's son
and daughter too
and baby too

I don't know what the wise men said
but I sure hope to find out soon
if I don't see you later Jack
maybe somewhere like the moon
June maybe too late

June maybe too late
you can take that as a warning
ringing out
June maybe too late
maybe see you judgement morning
singing loud

'n' Arty says the pop goes weasel
in May
and I got a hunch he might be right
so I'm gonna go and pack my bags today
an' I'll be gone 'fore you can
strike a light
June maybe too late