Drawn from Orion, we bend While picking you up through The last days of autumn Climbing the steps to your bed The drifts building upwards Like cards on a table Towards home Oh, winter takes me four hours away Pick through the pines Where we met my grandfather He told me you looked quite the same Your coat filled with burs And we grinned at the thought of it Saying we know you'll be safe The sun howling down On your path to the bottom Towards home Time won't change That you never looked away If you pass so unexpectedly And when we travel where you go Through several weeks of snow to see Backwards inside the lines And you sit by my side as I read The forest where we had just to leave you now Oh, summer brings us back from far away Soaked to the bone Overlooking the garden And though all words may have changed You're picking me up by The turn of the autumn