They say when autumn rolls on in,
beneath the reddish leaves,
There's a melancoly wonder that lives
just beneath the trees.

You won't find it there in August,
but as the calendar moves on,
There it will be waiting,
In the deep and early dawn.

There are some who love the harvest,
on the farms this time of year,
But there are others out there who
find only empty fear.

One day I saw a lonely girl,
On the edge of the rolling fields.
In a quaint moment of sadness,
a truth of the soul revealed.

Tell me darling, what's the news?
Is it summertime medleys
or September Blues?

She didn't say a word to me,
just stared long across the grass.
As if searching in the distance,
for some innocence long past.

A hint of coolness in the air,
carries echoes of the pain.
drowned out in the misery,
of a dreary morning rain.

Floating not too far away,
Is a lonely maple leaf.
Perhaps that's mother natures way
Of sharing in the grief?

At once a tear streamed down her cheek,
and the mystery overcame her.
It was as if right then the entire world,
had sought it out to shame her.

What road now, is it you choose?
The path of wonders
or September blues?

The little morning song continued,
the sun peered out from the clouds.
And in the middle of that field,
A desperate spirit tore the shroud.

The one that had ensconced her,
The one that shed her blood.
Trapped her in that inner prison,
and dragged her through the mud.

And here now the same girl, young,
but clearly somewhat broken.
Filling the sky with distant dreams,
and memories unspoken.

She looked back at me and smiled.
In her hand, a frail clover,
And one wish for a brilliant ride
On the fresh winds of October.

Do you see now, the misty ruse?
Is it a trick of the shadows
or September blues?