August Winds
Renée Fleming
When August winds are turning
The fishing boats set out upon the sea
I watch till 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 find me wandering here
And in my public moments
I hear the things I say but they're not me
Perhaps I'll know before I die
Admit that there's a reason why
I count the boats returning to the sea
I count the boats returning to the sea
And in my private moments
I drop the mask that I've been forced to wear
But no one knows this secret me
Where albeit unconsciously
I count the boats returning from the sea
I count the boats returning from the sea
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