Kinks - Autumn Almanac lyrics

From the dew-soaked hedge creeps a crawly caterpillar, When the dawn begins to crack. It's all part of my autumn almanac. Breeze blows leaves of a musty[mustard?]-coloured yellow, So i sweep them in my sack. Yes, yes, yes, it's my autumn almanac. Friday evenings, people get together, Hiding from the weather. Tea and toasted, bu*tered currant buns Can't compensate for lack of sun, Because the summer's all gone. La-la-la-la... Oh, my poor rheumatic back Yes, yes, yes, it's my autumn almanac. La-la-la-la... Oh, my autumn almanac Yes, yes, yes, it's my autumn almanac. I like my football on a saturday, Roast beef on sundays, all right. I go to blackpool for my holidays, Sit in the open sunlight. This is my street, and i'm never gonna to leave it, And i'm always gonna to stay here If i live to be ninety-nine, 'cause all the people i meet Seem to come from my street And i can't get away, Because it's calling me, (come on home) Hear it calling me, (come on home) La-la-la-la... Oh, my autumn armagnac Yes, yes, yes, it's my autumn almanac. La-la-la-la... Oh, my autumn almanac Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. Bop-bop-bopm-bop-bop, whoa! Bop-bop-bopm-bop-bop, whoa! (etc.)