New York Voices

When an early autumn takes a walk across the land
And begins to chill the summer breezes,
Fall whispers, and touches with her hand,
All the mellow hues of summer trees,
Perhaps, then maybe you'll understand
All the memories and special dreams I own,
Then you'll understand.
There's a dance pavilion in the pouring rain,
All the doors and windows shuttered down.
A long wandering, winding country lane,
All the fallen leaves are russet brown,
A cold, frosty and dark window pane,
Showing me a lonely and secluded town.
That spring of ours that started so April hearted,
Seemed made for just a boy and girl.
I never dreamed, did you,