The Shire anew has put on her dress
All red and brown, yellow and green
Whirling around, wants to be seen
Looking just like a jolly Hobbit lass.
The leaves are falling always down
Colourful like ribbons at the fair
Leaving all the branches bare
And soon after they are turning all brown.
Let us go to the pumpkin patch
The yellow pumpkins are just right
They will make a wonderful light
The biggest and roundest ones we‘ll fetch
In the morning the gray fog lingers
On the brown and reaped field
But soon the billows will have to yield
And are trailing away like misty fingers.
In the homes we put on the light
These days the dusk is falling soon
And in the night there’s the hunter’s moon
So light all the candles, let them shine bright.