September Slow

Across a small footbridge and a French coffee river
Watches my footsteps in the September slow
The lights on the boats
They are stars in the water
I?m losing my mind
In this drinkable flow
You live by the river
In an old red brick building
Beside the canal
Where the lock gates are drawn
I?m lost on the stairwell
Except for the sound
Of cats who like loving
And a sad saxophone.
My heart is the water
That falls from the weir
It crashes and tumbles
And fills me with fear
I came all this way
Just to finish my song
Or so I keep telling myself.
Stop on the staircase
And open my bag
Inside is a story I wrote long ago
It still has no ending
Some pages are missing
The pictures are fading
But the binding was strong
Now it is broken
I?ve read it too often
The paper?s so soft
It feels just like your skin
Or so I imagine but I do not know
Your door is wide open so I walk on in.
Here is a line from another song
Coming home to land
On a wing and a prayer
I guess that is me
Standing by your door
I?ve got shine on my shoes
I?ve hope in my hair
Nothing is new except my guitar case
And I?m so relieved
I don?t have to face
The way that old friends say
?How you have changed?
You don?t know me
We?re still strangers.
Meeting your eyes
Is like treading deep water
Oh how I wanted, I always did know
You don?t speak my language
And I don?t speak yours
There?s nothing to say
That our bodies can?t show
I might have your picture
But that won?t replace
The colours I see
When I look at your face
Red for my happiness
Blue for my love
And yellow for the sun and the moon
In the sky up above.