I'll close my eyes So I won't see The fiery leaves of the sourwood tree And if I try Perhaps I'll find A few more berries left on the vine No no no no no It's not time; It's not time No no no no no It's not time; It's not time I will pretend The Joe-Pye weed's The very first flower to bloom in spring The white flesh Of the apple seems An awful lot like a July peach No no no no no It's not time; It's not time No no no no no It's not time; It's not time And if I wake Before the sun Troubles take my thoughts and run Where do we go After we are gone? Is it south with the birds or east to the dawn? No no no no no It's not time; It's not time No no no no no It's not time; It's not time I'll close my eyes So I won't see The fiery leaves of the sourwood tree