There's a cross above the baby's bed,
A Saviour in her dreams.
But she was not delivered then,
And the baby became me.
There's a light inside the darkened room,
A footstep on the stairs.
A door that I forever close,
To leave those memories there.
When the shadows lengthen,
And leaves have turned to dust.
Well first there's summer, then I'll let you in.
September when it comes.
I plan to crawl outside these walls,
Close my eyes and see.
And crawl into the heart and arms,
Of those who wait for me.
I cannot move a mountain now;
I can no longer run.
I cannot be who I was then:
In a way, I never was.
I watch the clouds go sailing;
I watch the clock and sun.
Oh, I watch myself, depending on,
September when it comes.
When the shadows lengthen,
And burn away the past.
They will fly me, like an angel,
To a place where I can rest.
When this begins, I'll let you in,
September when it comes.