Gordon Bok
Gordon Bok - Turning Toward The Morning (with Ann Mayo Muir, Ed Trickett) songtekst
Je score:
When the deer has bedded down And the bear has gone to ground And the northern goose has wandered off To warmer bay and sound It's so easy in the cold to feel The darkness of the year And the heart is growing lonely For the morning Oh, my Joanie, don't you know that the stars are swinging slow And the seas are rolling easy as they did so long ago? If I had a thing to give you I would tell you one more time That the world is always turning toward the morning Now October's growing thin And November's coming home You'll be thinking of the season And the sad things that you've seen And you hear that old wind walking Hear him singing high and thin You could swear he's out there singing Of your sorrow Oh, my Joanie, don't you know that the stars are swinging slow And the seas are rolling easy as they did so long ago? If I had a thing to give you I would tell you one more time That the world is always turning toward the morning When the darkness falls around you And the North wind comes to blow And you hear him call you name out As he walks the brittle snow That old wind don't mean you trouble He don't care or even know He's just walking down the darkness Toward the morning Oh, my Joanie, don't you know that the stars are swinging slow And the seas are rolling easy as they did so long ago? If I had a thing to give you I would tell you one more time That the world is always turning toward the morning It's a pity we don't know What the little flowers know They can't face the cold November They can't take the wind and snow They put their glories all behind them Bow their heads and let it go But you know they'll be there shining In the morning Oh, my Joanie, don't you know that the stars are swinging slow And the seas are rolling easy as they did so long ago? If I had a thing to give you I would tell you one more time That the world is always turning toward the morning Now, my Joanie, don't you know That the days are rolling slow And the winter's walking easy As he did so long ago? And, if that wind should come and ask you "Why's my Joanie weeping so?" Won't you tell him that you're weeping For the morning? Oh, my Joanie, don't you know that the stars are swinging slow And the seas are rolling easy as they did so long ago? If I had a thing to give you I would tell you one more time That the world is always turning toward the morning