Robyn Hitchcock
Old Man Weather
Summer's high
And the nights are drawing in
You feel it in your skin
But no-one’s suffering

There's a breeze
Catching in your sail
There used to be a gale

Old
(old)
Man
(man)
Weather
(weather)

Old
(old)
Man
(man)
Weather
(weather)

I was there
When the invitations came
They misspelled your name
But you went just the same
Every time
You hear that ringing bell
You wake up face-down in hell

Old
(old)
Man
(man)
Weather
(weather)

Old
(old)
Man
(man)
Weather
(weather)

Summer's gone
The afternoons are warm
Beneath the purple storm
The young hatch out and swarm

Old
(old)
Man
(man)
Weather
(weather)
Old
(old)
Man
(man)
Weather
(weather)

Old
(old)
Man
(man)
Weather
(weather)

There’s a demon in your soul
With it's fingernails of gold
Gold
The rise
The fall

Old
(old)
Man
(man)
Weather
(weather)
Old
(old)
Man
(man)
Weather
(weather)

Old
(old)
Man
(man)
Weather
(weather)

Bring it on