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When I look outside my window
What do I see?
And when I look outside my window
So many different people to be
That it's strange, so strange
You've got to pick up every stitch
Two rabbits running in a ditch
The hippies out to make it rich
Oh no
Must be the season of the witch
Must be the season of the witch
Must be the season of the witch
Must be the season of the witch
Spirits of the wilderness, help me
Well, when I look over my shoulder
What do I see?
And when I look over my shoulder
Some ancient fellow I'm longing to be
It's so strange, so strange
You've got to pick up every stitch
Two rabbits running in the ditch
That hippies out to make it rich
Oh no
Must be the season of the witch
Must be the season of the witch
Must be the season of the witch, yeah
Must be the season of the witch