Few things are certain, my friend

Not much of all this matters in the end

Theres been enough to ask and say

Thoughts unwind, now here to stay

Octobre's gone

But we still listen to the same old song

As we wash our hands in icy water

We turn numb, to feel again

The clouds moved faster, or so it seemed

So it seemed in, in octobre

Octobre's gone

But we still listen to the same old song

Few things are certain, my friend

Not much of all this matters in the end

Theres been enough to ask and say

Thoughts unwind, now here to stay