Tuesday night into Autumn, 

Darkness falling more, 

Things are really changing, 

Here along the shore, 

Words are prone to wander, 

Much like in a dream, 

Music flows like whiskey, 

Things aren’t what they seem, 

The waves lap at the jetty, 

An image under clouds, 

The village soon will slumber, 

Beneath the snowy shrouds, 

Waiting for the warming, 

Returning sailors to the sea, 

When it comes next year, 

Will we still be free?