Gordon Lightfoot 1966
Sit by my side come as close as the air
Sharing a memory of grey
And wander in my words
And dream about the pictures that I play, of changes.
Green leaves of summer turn red in the fall
To brown and to yellow they fade
And then they have to die
Trapped within the circle time parade, of changes.
Moments of magic will glow in the night
All fears of the forest are gone
For when the morning breaks
They're swept away by golden drops of dawn, of changes.
Passions will part to a warm melody
As fires will sometimes turn cold
Like petals in the wind
We're puppets to the silver strings of souls, of changes.
Your tears will be trembling now we're somewhere else
One last cup of wine we will pour
I'll kiss you one more time
And leave you on the rolling river shore, of changes.
(Transcribed by David Story - February 2013)