Can't stop thinking 'bout it It fills me with unease Out there by the roadside Something's buried Under sycamore leaves Wet grounds, late September The foliage up the trees I came upon this feeling That someone's lying Covered by sycamore leaves And I could never make it And I could never see I could never break out And shake its grip on me Sycamore leaves And I could never make it And I could never see I could never break out And shake its grip on me Can't stop thinking 'bout it It fills me with unease Out there by the roadside Something's buried Under sycamore leaves Covered by sycamore leaves Sycamore leaves I'm covered by Sycamore leaves