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| Season For Sleeping |
| Beth Amsel ©1999 Good Egg Music |
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I woke up this morning bright before the dawn And the ache wasn't quite so bad in these old hands, crooked hands There's a hard white covering frost but the sun will melt it down, sure enough in an autumn's firey glow slower than slow, slower than slow So wake up my darlin' and stand with me here where we can watch these twenty acres shine down to that old spring stone line Slip your hands inside this glove and the other into mine, warm mine and we'll walk along the old forge road and bid this season well, fare thee well We'll watch the children rub crayons they're pulling up history drawn off the faces of tombstones and grave heads holding their lungfulls they're hopping cross centuries worn down by ages, the dirt covered passages all bare falls mark it is the season for sleeping close your eyes but don't turn your back to cold change there is no reason to cower down under the marching as time passes it faces us all I'll scratch your name into this earth and on my knees declare I am going to love you till the day I die and they blow these ashes cold towards that sky And someone here will whisper still and walk these gravel roads sure enough in an autumn's fiery glow slower than slow, slower than slow They'll watch the children rub crayons they're pulling up history drawn off the faces of tombstones and grave heads holding their lungfulls they're hopping cross centuries worn down by ages, the dirt covered passages all bare falls mark it is the season for sleeping close your eyes but don't turn your back to cold change there is no reason to cower down under the marching as time passes it faces us all |
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