Song information  On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Medley: Seasons , by - Magna Carta. Song from the album Seasons + Songs From Wasties Orchard, in the genre ПопRelease date: 31.12.1998
Record label: Mercury
Song language: English
 Song information  On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Medley: Seasons , by - Magna Carta. Song from the album Seasons + Songs From Wasties Orchard, in the genre ПопMedley: Seasons | 
| This is the turning of the year | 
| The final scene before the curtain falls | 
| The squirrel, warm within his bed | 
| of leaves cannot hear the wind | 
| that blows around the chimney pots | 
| For like the pilgrim of the year gone by | 
| Once he was a young man | 
| who laughed in the spring | 
| And lay beneath an upturned sky | 
| on long hot summer days | 
| But with autumn he grows mellow | 
| He looks over his shoulder | 
| Down the long year path of no return | 
| Already he is but a memory | 
| Fading like a shadow on the wall | 
| But time with restless footsteps | 
| hurries by and now beside the road | 
| There stands the pilgrim | 
| of the year to be | 
| Falling leaves turn to gold | 
| Silver flowers on my window | 
| Spirit of the fading year | 
| He knows not where | 
| He cannot say, oh no | 
| Naked trees in the sky | 
| Stars are shining clear and cold | 
| The minstrel of the ages | 
| sings of oh so long ago | 
| An age old tune without a name | 
| No one knows | 
| In the white falling snow | 
| The pilgrim travels on | 
| His face towards the sun | 
| Beyond the open road he travels on | 
| Past the lamp shining windows | 
| And faces by the fire | 
| Before the midnight hour | 
| For Christmas time | 
| has come around again | 
| Go to sleep, little child | 
| You shouldn’t be awake | 
| Go to sleep little child | 
| Time to let the night go by | 
| Waiting for the sound of a magic sleigh | 
| The chimneys not too tall they say | 
| Or the roof too high for a reindeer to fly | 
| No not too high for a reindeer to fly | 
| The clock strikes twelve | 
| on a street below | 
| They hurry to a church to pray | 
| «Forgive our sins and negligence | 
| Accept our humble penitence | 
| It’s been a year ago today | 
| Since we were here» | 
| Choir gently sings an anthem | 
| Not too loud or out of key | 
| Congregation turn eye corners | 
| When the plate goes round to see | 
| Who gives the most on Christmas day | 
| The most on Christmas day | 
| Twilight days are slipping far away | 
| Just sand into an hour glass | 
| For winter time is slowly passed | 
| And cannot last forever | 
| North wind turn your back | 
| upon the doors that you have blown | 
| West wind melt the organ pipes of ice | 
| That glitter on the eaves | 
| of the houses in the town | 
| And the sun wakes up the flowers | 
| That slumber through the winter | 
| And warms the sleepy faces | 
| Waiting for the spring | 
| The skies of steel | 
| and fields white with frost | 
| are memories of yesterday | 
| And while scarecrow children | 
| search the hedgerows and splash | 
| through muddy pools for secrets | 
| The spirit of the spring | 
| with the sunbeams on her hair | 
| shakes the sleeping earth | 
| And with the pilgrim by her side | 
| She murmurs in the trees | 
| And in the ears of all who listen | 
| «Now time to wake for winter has gone» | 
| With flowers in her hair | 
| She smiles again and like a child | 
| cares nothing for tomorrow | 
| She spreads her wings | 
| Catch her if you see her | 
| in your mind’s eye | 
| For she smiles in a Mona Lisa way | 
| Sun is rising | 
| from a cloud above your head | 
| When you instead are sleeping | 
| All is knowing, all is growing | 
| And no one knows | 
| which way their mind is blowing | 
| And now she finds | 
| her work is almost done | 
| And like a child | 
| cares nothing for tomorrow | 
| And like a child | 
| cares nothing for tomorrow | 
| And like a child thinks only for today | 
| The pilgrim wanders with the spirit | 
| of the spring, enchanted | 
| As if tomorrow will never come | 
| But time is running out | 
| And as she bids him farewell | 
| Only the echo of her voice remains | 
| For now she flies | 
| On the bare back of the south wind | 
| Across the naked mountains | 
| Above the winding rivers | 
| Breathing gently on the meadows | 
| Scattering her flowers | 
| into the grass and the hedgerows | 
| Fading through the back door | 
| Long summer day | 
| Golden fingers pointing at my doorway | 
| Meadow sleeping | 
| Watching for the sky to turn you on | 
| The air filled with heytime | 
| Blowing past a flower-print lady | 
| On a seat in the park | 
| Wears a paper on her head | 
| She never read at all | 
| She’s just keeping her mind in the dark | 
| Keeping her mind in the dark | 
| You know she’s cool | 
| She’s just like an ice-cream man | 
| And don’t you see what I mean | 
| She’s doing the best that she can | 
| Doing the best that she can | 
| Hey Mr. Sunshine | 
| Like a Harlequin you’re dancing | 
| on my picture book today | 
| Ooh It’s a good time | 
| And I’m floating far away | 
| Chew on a candy-floss | 
| in the pouring rain | 
| Kids are crying again | 
| Kids are crying again | 
| Holiday time | 
| Down on a beach with the crowd | 
| Trying to look for the sun | 
| Taking whatever you can | 
| And your deckchair is an island | 
| In a kaleidoscope world | 
| Jamming cars, crowded bars | 
| Standing trains or smell the drains | 
| The quiver in the heat of the city street | 
| God, I must get away | 
| Hey Mr. Sunshine | 
| And I’m floating far away | 
| Down the wide open road | 
| The pilgrim travels on | 
| His face towards the sun | 
| Beyond the open road he travels on | 
| And the waves steal the footprints | 
| Of the summer from the sand | 
| Beneath the silver moon | 
| The North wind blows | 
| the fading leaves again | 
| Around and around | 
| All has nearly turned full circle | 
| The warm lazy days of sunshine | 
| And brown rivers | 
| winding through the meadows | 
| are a tale of yesterday | 
| The pilgrim sighs | 
| And draws his mantle close | 
| about him in the smoky evening | 
| He watches the leaves wither and fall | 
| Frost has rimmed the pools with ice | 
| And hung diamonds | 
| in the spider’s web | 
| For this is the turning of the year | 
| The final scene before the curtain falls | 
| And now beside the road there stands | 
| the pilgrim of the year to be | 
| Falling leaves turn to gold | 
| Silver flowers on my window | 
| Spirit of the fading year | 
| He knows not where | 
| He cannot say | 
| Name | Year | 
|---|---|
| Airport Song | 2012 | 
| Have A Nice Day | 2012 | 
| Wind On The Water | 2012 | 
| It's So Easy | 2012 | 
| Written In The Wind | 2012 | 
| Strangers In The Land Of Ulysses | 2012 | 
| Call Me The Breeze | 2012 | 
| Sun Ain't Gonna Rise | 2012 | 
| When All Is Said And Done | 2012 | 
| Sting Of The Gin | 2012 | 
| Little Bit Of My Heart | 2012 | 
| Midnight Blue | 2012 | 
| Tomorrow Is A Long Time | 2012 | 
| Elizabethan | 2012 | 
| Abalone Sky-Banjo Man | 2012 | 
| Highway To Spain | 2012 | 
| I'll Walk Mine | 2012 | 
| Natural Living Man | 2012 | 
| Ring Of Stones | 1998 | 
| Slowbone Jones | 2012 |