| Lyrics: | Right outside this lazy summer home
you ain't got time to call your soul a critic
no.
Right outside the lazy gate of winter's summer home,
wond'rin' where the nut-thatch
winters,
wings a mile long just carried the bird away.
Wake up to find out that you
are the eyes of the world,
the heart has it's beaches, it's homeland and thoughts of it's
own.
Wake now, discover that you are the song that the mornin' brings,
But the heart has
it's seasons, it's evenin's and songs of it's own.
There comes a redeemer, and he slowly
too fades away,
And there follows his wagon behind him that's loaded with clay.
And the
seeds that were silent all burst into bloom, and decay,
and night comes so quiet, it's close on
the heels of the day.
Wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world,
the
heart has it's beaches, it's homeland and thoughts of it's own.
Wake now, discover that you are
the song that the mornin' brings,
But the heart has it's seasons, it's evenin's and songs of
it's own.
Sometimes we live no particular way but our own,
And sometimes we visit
your country and live in your home,
sometimes we ride on your horses, sometimes we walk
alone,
sometimes the songs that we hear are just songs of our own.
Wake up to find
out that you are the eyes of the world,
the heart has it's beaches, it's homeland and thoughts
of it's own.
Wake now, discover that you are the song that the mornin' brings,
But the
heart has it's seasons, it's evenin's and songs of it's own |
