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August Winds (OBCR)





Young Meg
August winds are turning,
The fishing boats set out upon the sea.

Young Meg & Meg Dawson
I watch ‘til they sail out of sight,
The winter follows soon.
I watch them drawn into the night,
Beneath the August moon.

No one knows I come here,
Some things I don’t share.
I can’t explain the reasons
Why it moves me close to tears,
Or something in the season’s change will turn my head,
And find me wandering here.

In my public moments,
I hear the things I say but they’re not me.
Perhaps I’ll know before I die,
And admit that there’s a reason why,
I count the boats returning from the sea,
I count the boats returning from the sea.

There once was a boy who said he loved me...