Из альбома: Songs for a Sunday

The shadows grow long in the churchyard
As the skylarks fly away
And lost to the loam, all the dreams we'll never know
We'll dream them there one day

I've sung the hymn from its first bars
And I fought my way through the gameplan
Now for all the world I feel like a little girl
But I'll do my best to be a man

Rook on the bough, what tales have you to tell me
From over the stile and the hills of this evening view?
If only these stones, quiet in the moon, would allay my fears
And we could have dreams asleep under the yew

Into the past go our futures
In running streams will our thoughts flow
Unto the earth, the sum of all our worth
And the seasons that we'll never know
And that garden we'll never grow

Rook, fly away from your bough into the night sky
And carry our prayers on your wings up to the moon,
And watch the world spin until we've all had our turn
And it's time to go home
Back to the earth to sleep under the yew

Safe in the earth asleep under the yew

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