Please come back, September,
'cause it's cold and it's dark,
and I feel like corpses are rising behind my back
and this whole world is our own,
personal tomb.
I know I banished you, September,
for my icy heart thought
I'd make a rope out of your leaves
and tie it around my neck
in a knot.
I bellow and I cry, September,
have mercy on my poor soul,
don't let it crawl through snow
that might cover me up completely
and oh, so, so deeply.