Tiller's Folly: Music

To Come

The air is sweet, springtime is waiting

Your eye is drawn where the road stretches far
All your life you’ve been searching for something
You couldn’t find in your own back yard

 

Shake off the cloak of expectations
Your shackles broken; the world’s at your feet

Cast off the yoke of so-called convention
You stand on the threshold of life, fast and free

Between the streams and tree-lined fences
Lighten your pack of life’s weary load
Follow the dreams of kings and princes
Nothing to stop you, you’re all on your , so go the road...go the road

There’s song in the trees, and every sweet meadow
You feel the music, your blood sings with wine
Move like a breeze, in warm rays of summer
Live while the blossom clings firm to the vine

 

The wind turns chill, with cold winter’s coming
You tramp the "long acre", your bones stiff and cold
These last bitter dregs have called home to haunt you
We’ll all pay the piper, when the last dance is tolled

 

When winter steels the last leaves of autumn
You’re cast about; of no fixed abode
A wisp of smoke at the end of an alley
You may well curse the day, when first you strayed to go the road... go the road

Farewell to you, all you boys of pleasure
A sad adieu, you last rolling stone
You tramps and tinkers, you gypsy rovers
Your ramblin’ days will soon be gone