Old Father Time checked, so there'd be no doubt.
Called on the north wind to come on out,
Then cupped his hands so proudly to shout:
"La-di-da, di-da-di-dum, 'tis Autumn!"
The trees say they're tired, they've born too much fruit,
Charmed all the wayside, there's no dispute
Now shedding leaves, they don't give a hoot.
La-di-da, di-da-di-dum, 'tis Autumn!
Then the birds got together,
To chirp about the weather, mmm
After makin' their decision
In birdie-like precision,
Turned about and made a bee-line to the south
Though holding you close really is no crime,
Ask the birds, the trees, and Old Father Time,
It's just to help the mercury climb.
La-di-da, di-da-di-dum, 'tis Autumn!