Lyrics: Ken Yates
Music: Ken Yates
August on the island in the land of trilliums
We all brought you to the south end where you’ll always get the sun
No one there to bother you or give you any grief
Well at least the kind that kept you getting any kind of sleep
Never went to Paris even though you spoke the language
Never failed your parents even though they gave you anguish
Your dad had all the vision of a building up in smoke
He got everything he wanted but the TV remote
When you become a memory you can never lose a fight
Empty out your closet but keep all the clothes you like
Salt still in the wound
Still I always think of you
Every time the perennials bloom
Your brother hid the bottles in the corner of the couch
He always had a way of looking at the gift horse in the mouth
And despite your better judgement you're the last to take his side
Even when he did the things that left you dewy eyed
When you become a dream you can never hold a hand
Catching up to greet you but I'm running in the sand
Salt still in the wound
Still I always think of you
Every time the perennials bloom
You should see the place now that we're almost on our feet
We’ve got chickens in the backyard we've got soil for the seeds
Sometimes I still talk to you like you're still sitting there
I'll be setting up your table with your silverware
When you become a story people gather round to hear
Carving out your name in the celestial sphere
Salt still in the wound
Still I always think of you
Every time the perennials bloom
August on the island in the land of trilliums
We all brought you to the south end where you’ll always get the sun