Before the autumn comes
Before the trees are torn by the harsh winds
And the world is consumed by leafy snow
Before the fires edge and burn out slow
And dark soiled Earth is turned to rust
Before the autumn comes again and then
I will find myself
Once more and last
In the springtime of my youth the pass
For there my fate will not be determined
For all are falling, all are fast
But before the autumn comes again
I will outstretch my strong summer arms
And try and hold the winter back
In the springtime of my youth to pass
In October I do battle and each war is always different. It's no longer about making enemies or friends. It's not about ME or this frail human history. It's about the blessing of being able to try and fail. The freedom to be without restraints for a few days (like when I was a younger guy). That freedom to me means oh-so-much.