It Is September The 11th, From Me To You

It is a crisp, cool, foggy fall day.
My walk with Tribble dog is now through.
It is September the 11th, from me to you.

Frantic emails from friends at work,
It’s on the net and radio, can you see this on your home TV?
A small plane crash, like Patsy Cline’s Mountain but is it all true?
It is September the 11th, from me to you.

The anchorwoman say’s that there is just a little bit of falling debris.
“Oh my God!” the whole freaking building is coming down, is what I see!
4 – 5 – 6 more planes are on the way?
No one has a clue…
It is September the 11th, from me to you.

My wife and I are now going to work, past the Calgary International Airport we go.
We see all the passenger planes parked wing tip to wing tip, row upon row.
No jet contrails, no aircraft sounds and for the first time in my life, only the birds flew.
It is September the 11th, from me to you.

Our minds are not on our work, as we are numb through this whole day.
For we hear stories of those who died, helping those who had to stay.
Later more stories of those who bravely stopped the evil that flew.
It is September the 11th, from me to you.

Entombed in the mountains of debris are up to 3,000 dead, what can one do?
To fight the evil of man, God has shown me, the same as you.
That we must help those who are down, troubled and stand up for love and what is true.
For from this hell we should have learned,
that this was our wake up call, that we all went through.
It is September the 11th, from me to you.

Written by Sir Richard
For September 11th