Lyrics Weather Report Suite: Prelude / Part I / Part II [Let It Grow] - Grateful Dead

Weather Report Suite: Prelude / Part I / Part II [Let It Grow] - Grateful Dead
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Weather Report Suite: Prelude / Part I / Part II [Let It Grow], artist - Grateful Dead. Album song Dick's Picks Vol. 31: Philadelphia Civic Center, Philadelphia, PA 8/4/74 - 8/5/74 / Roosevelt Stadium, Jersey City, NJ8/6/74, in the genre Иностранный рок
Date of issue: 23.03.2009
Record label: Grateful Dead
Song language: English

Weather Report Suite: Prelude / Part I / Part II [Let It Grow]

Winter rain, now tell me why
Summers fade, and roses die
The answer came
The wind and rain
Golden hills, now veiled in gray
Summer leaves have blown away
Now what remains?
The wind and rain
And like a desert spring
My lover comes and spreads her wings (flowing)
Like a song that’s born to soar the sky (flowing)
Flowing 'till the waters all are dry (flowing)
The loving in her eyes
Circle songs and sands of time
And seasons will end in tumbled rhyme
And little change
The wind and rain
And like a desert spring
My lover comes and spreads her wings (flowing)
Like a song that’s born to soar the sky (flowing)
Flowing 'till the rivers all are dry (flowing)
The loving in her eyes
(Winter gray and falling rain)
(We'll see summer come again)
(Darkness falls and seasons change)
Gonna happen every time
(Same old friends the wind and rain
We’ll see summer by and by
Summers fade and roses die
(You'll see summer come again)
Like a song that’s born to soar the sky
Morning comes, she follows the path to the river shore
Lightly sung, her song is the latch on the morning’s door
See the sun sparkle in the reeds, silver beads, pass into the sea
She comes from a town where they call her the woodcutter’s daughter
She’s brown as the bank where she kneels down to gather her water
And she bears it away with a love that the river has taught her
Let it flow, greatly grow, wide and clear!
Round and round, the cut of the plow in the furrowed field
Seasons round, the bushels of corn and the barley meal
Broken ground, open and beckoning to the spring
Black dirt live again!
The plowman is broad as the back of the land he is sowing
As he dances the circular track of the plow ever knowing
That the work of his day measures more than the planting and growing
Let it grow, let it grow, greatly yield!
What shall we say, shall we call it by a name?
As well to count the angels dancing on a pin
Water bright as the sky from which it came
And the name is on the earth that takes it in
We will not speak but stand inside the rain
And listen to the thunder shout «I am!
I am!
I am!
I am!»
So it goes, we make what we make since the world began
Nothing more, the love of the women, the work of men
Seasons round, creatures great and small
Up and down as we rise and fall
What shall we say, shall we call it by a name?
As well to count the angels dancing on a pin
Water bright as the sky from which it came
And the name is on the earth that takes it in
We will not speak but stand inside the rain
And listen to the thunder shout «I am!
I am!
I am!
I am!»

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Artist lyrics: Grateful Dead