[Instrumental] [Verse 1] You know how I know it’s the autumnal equinox? Not the stars, not the tilt of the clock— It’s a throng of spiders storming in like D-Day, Every window, every door, like they’ve found the way. Promised land by the welcome mat, Shangri-La where the slippers at. [Chorus] But their promised land is a battlefield, Spider corpses stacked, no quarter, no shield. Like Gettysburg in miniature, legs sprawled wide— Autumn comes crawling, nowhere to hide. [Verse 2] Linoleum scratches—eight tiny feet, Stop on a dime, silence complete. No calendar needed, no falling leaves, Just a graveyard floor where the webs once weaved. Tiny flags torn, little kingdoms fall, Arachnid armies can’t win it all. [Chorus] ’Cause their promised land is a battlefield, Spider corpses stacked, no quarter, no shield. Like Gettysburg in miniature, legs sprawled wide— Autumn comes crawling, nowhere to hide. [Bridge – Spoken, half-sung] The silence after the skitter, The hush after the fight— Autumn’s not gold or crimson, It’s black legs in the night. [Final Chorus] Promised land? No, it’s a war at hand. Spider leg banners torn across the land. The season don’t whisper, it don’t softly fall— It stomps out spiders, and that’s autumn’s call. [Outro – Whispered/echoed] Autumn written… not in leaves… But in arachnid carcasses.
