Lyr ADD: THE OLD WAYS
(Mike Truelove)

My three score and ten's nearly done
I'm an old man with hair turned to grey
I dream of the old ways I knew as a boy
Worked from dawn till the eve of the day

Walking between rows of golden sheaves
On our way home from the reaping
Horse walks beside me, gentle and slow
Night shadows stealthily creeping
Home to the stable, hang collar and trace
Old fella's worked hard for his keeping
Home to the fireside and bed's warm embrace
The children already are sleeping

My three score and ten's nearly done
I'm an old man with hair turned to grey
I dream of the old ways I knew as a boy
Worked from dawn till the eve of the day

Lush meadow grass laid in swathes by the mower
Three days of turning and drying
The ricks they grew tall as we pitch-forked the hay
Under blue skies, warm breezes sighing
In baskets of willow the maids brought our meal
Old home brew bottles held cold tea
We ate neath the rick telling tales handed down tales
Contented folks, easy and free

My three score and ten's nearly done
I'm an old man with hair turned to grey
I dream of the old ways I knew as a boy
Worked from dawn till the eve of the day

The land is now worked by noisy machines
The ways of the countryman fading
Mem'ry returns to those days gone and past
The seagulls and crows at their raiding
In the cool early dawn of a gold autumn morn
No place for sadness or sorrow
With the horse leading on to my quiet commands
I'd follow the plough in straight furrow

My three score and ten's nearly done
I'm an old man with hair turned to grey
I dream of the old ways I knew as a boy
Worked from dawn till the eve of the day

My three score and ten's nearly done

Written in 2000.