Last leaves have eyes of coal
Caught in the updraught
White smoke to spin for yarn
Where the tree fell in the grove
White smoke
I can see Totterdown
I can see Windmill Hill
But I cannot see yet my son dig the earthworm
For Nobby's dowel spoke
Now she's pulling on the choke
Top twigs press into twigs
And they are the preimage in the vault
And out into the settling
I can see the yarn unwind
Twenty-seven, twenty-eight
We could go Totterdown
As yours are now Freezing Hill
So let me walk all the earth with no name
Until I come of age
I'll be coming to you
