When an early autumn walks the land and chills the breeze and touches with her hand the summer trees, perhaps you'll understand what memories I own. There's a dance pavilion in the rain all shuttered down, a winding country lane all russet brown, a frosty window pane shows me a town grown lonely. That spring of ours that started so April-hearted, seemed made for just a boy and girl. I never dreamed, did you, any fall would come in view so early, early. Darling if you care, please, let me know, I'll meet you anywhere, I miss you so. Let's never have to share another early autumn.
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