CHANGE OF THE SEASONS
David Mallett

I have been watching the change of the seasons,
The shade of the oak tree -- the passing of days,
The tide and the river as it reaches the ocean,
The moon and the meadow grass passing away.

CHORUS: And I have been watching the change of the seasons,
And today I feel a bit older somehow,
But like the tide and the river as it reaches the ocean,
I think I'll be all right for now.

I had an old friend---a wild river rider,
A kind-hearted warrior---a dealer in dreams,
Who talked of wild horses and cried over lovers,
And then stood up and laughed in the face of the screams. CHORUS

SPOKEN: This line of life it is quick and keen,
The time arrives--the knife is clean,
I'm older now and I have seen
Great flames of life expire,
There are no concrete guarantees,
No solid sensibilities,
No gracious generosities when it all comes down to the wire,
Men die on beds, behind closed doors
Or on piles of rags upon the floor,
The North wind makes the pine trees roar
And the cold comes through the walls,
Clutching to a moving sphere,
We look for love between the tears,
The fire is low --- I swear I think I hear my old friend call.

And today as I wander through this laughing new morning,
As the clear morning air takes the bad dreams away,
From birthplace to graveyard in a land gone to madness,
I come to this old place on the saddest of days. CHORUS