Come September

The summer isn't over come September, please remember
I know you know that darling, but it's worth a wee reminder
Young Evelyn's off to school again with her pencil case and binder
But that doesn't mean the summer's gone away

I know the poplar leaves have started turning, brush fires burning
Of course I know that darling, and I hardly need reminding
And it's true the hay is in the fields and ready now for binding
But that doesn't mean the summer's gone away

The brook is still a babble, and the sparrow on the harrow
Is chirping, darling, merrily, and it sounds to me like laughter
I hardly think the sparrow's thinking of the cold months after
When the cold wind blows and the summer's gone away

The pumpkins in the empty fields are lying, geese are flying
The frost is on the roadsides, darling, that there's no denying
And cooler are the nights to come, with all the sobs and sighing
When the morning's dark and the summer's gone away

But now it's just September in the farmland, and this farmhand
Is begging of you darling, think of all the sunlit noondays
To come before those all-too-dark and cold and all-too-soon days
When it's cold and dark and desperate, love, and
The summer's gone away...

Written after last year's Shelter Valley Folk Festival, and originally posted here.
There's just something about September that brings a sinking feeling. It's really out of all proportion; September is mostly still summer, after all...