From the recording Plug Into The Real - 2003
I'm pretty proud of this tight and punchy slice of guitar pop. And I'm not just talking about the wordplay of the tongue n' cheek lyrics.
I like the arrangement, with it's buzz-saw guitars, layered vocals, analog synth details, and mellotron.
I particularly love the way the middle-8 builds and builds, getting nastier and edgier until it resolves back into the sweetness of the pre-chorus.
Can you hear the flies?
Lyrics
Joe Blow, it's September don't you know?
Please tell me, 'yes' or 'no'
Did my summer really, really go away?
June, June can you hear the harvest moon?
Whistling his tune
As he blows July and August clear away
'Poof' like a witch, thrown into water
'Ping' like a childless child's only daughter
Just like a lamb, lead to the slaughter
July, I love it when you smile
But I understand your sigh
It's so tiresome keeping fall at bay
August, trampled in the dust
Dripping with the rust
From tears of summer fans and shorter days
Pushing back the change like dike plugged with fingers
Giving up your life to protect the spring flingers
Holding off the frost bees, with their frigid stingers
I love her light, but I hate her speed
If fall is her assassin tell me why does autumn bleed?
I need her heat, it can get so cold
When her yearly defeat reminds me that I'm getting old
Directions spin and twirl, in the compass of my head
When her freedom makes me chase after everything I've read
How 'bout her flowers, how high can they grow?
I don't really care, all I really wanna know is
Where did summer go?
All my plans of sun sitting
Sitting in the sun
Watching, waiting for the sky
All these plans have been cleared
Disappeared in the twinkling and blinking of the eye
Of winter's hurricane, tell me who's to blame
Is it me?
It's really not the same since summer's been
Shot down in flame
Joe Blow, it's September don't you know?
Please tell me, 'yes' or 'no'
Did my summer really, really go away?
'Zap' like a white dwarf, in love with supernova
'Poof' like the idiot's Ivy League diploma
'Zing' like the brain cells of precious Rolling Stoners