Though I try my best to remember
the months and years I can never forget,
every time it’s the month of September,
I most often remember regret.
Regret for the times I was never…
Regret for the times I was lost…
Regret for my lack of endeavor…
Regret for all that it cost.
But regrets now take no lead,
because from them I’ve been freed.
Regrets may bring strife,
but remembering brings life;
An incredible distinction, indeed.
September the fourth it was over,
Now it’s September the fourth of nineteen,
eight wonderful years I’ve been sober,
eight sobering years I’ve been clean.
But I’ll always remember September
and thank God I survived to regret
the lost years I’m alive to remember
And the best still ahead of me yet.