Autumn comes and leaves fall to the ground,
Scattered to the wind, year upon year,
Just like people they come and go,
There can be no delay to the perfection of the equinox.

There aren’t many photos of me,
Almost as if I wasn’t here at all,
When I was younger I foolishly would believe,
That I could move through life,
And not touch anyone,
Leave no mark on the world,
Observe without influence.

Now that I am older, I understand,
That it’s not possible,
In just the same way that science has shown,
Schrodinger’s poor cat never stood a chance,
I had to know and…… I had to be.

But if we just shift a little we can see,
That it is possible, in a manor,
Do as we will and try as we might,
We won’t change fate and it’s likely,
We’ll not be remembered,
In a hundred years who will care?
In a thousand, who will know?

There is no autumn here, only the heat day after day,
But for all the warmth, I feel so cold,
Surrounded by millions, I am alone,
Time and season stand still,
I have to remind myself that back home,
The leaves in April succumb to gravity,
And drift back toward earth,
To become one with her again.

This bed as wide as the sea,
I sleep and dream and see your face,
And wish you were swimming in it with me,
It’s easy to forget that our time is brief,
Everyday we’re still going to perish,
So hard to know if there is a right way,
And to worry upon it is our vexation.

If we open our hearts we can save ourselves,
From the paralysis of eternal procrastination,
Our Autumn will come and we shall be scattered to the wind,
It is best to know that we are deciduous,
Like the leaves in April,
And that only our love can be evergreen.