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Linden Lost

The Lyrics

1: Introit

Echoes of summers long gone, wrapped up in a
hand-me-down songThose images weathered and worn,
remembered each time we went out walking the dawn ,
and didn't we love to kick up the hay? old summers,
old yesterdays ...
Golden Autumn air
where swallows and martins danced their convoluted pairs
didn't we join them, dancing too? before they parted,
flying to distant shores to warmer fields anew -with equinox due
Autumn gale and winter rain,
and snow falling in it's season,
and warm beneath the bright white earth,
the promised seeds of Springtime slept, in safety slept
all winter through.
With the solstice breaking
the moon called the seeds to awaken
and we felt the wakening too
when the winter sun broke through
welcomed with Fire between two ancient standing stones ,
welcomed him home.


2: Requiem

Requiem aeternam dona eis Domine, et lux eterna luceat eis, dona eis requiem .
Water and air and fire and earth, all weathered, by time compounded.Out of such clay a frail vessel make, , where life is grounded,
and forms of the ocean, silt and sun and crumbling ore, reached complexity on ancient shores
the thunder as midwife and light'ning as guide, born of the sunlight, and rocked by the tide.

3: Apple Blossom

Born of sunlight, sunlight, sunlight, the apple buds
watch the apple blossoms are opening, opening, opening,
Sometimes I find I'm wondering at the way of things,
worried and wondering ,at how ev'ry thing seems to be fragile
like an apple bud, in an orchard opening.
Sometimes I hear a distant bell leaning on the air, sounding the passing knell
for ev'ry thing I care for seems to be so fragile ..
.like an apple blossom caught between late winter chill and the hope of Spring ,in an orchard opening.

Once upon a time before before the chill and the chime,
time for pleasure, and leisure to turn a blind eye.
Now a bell's sounding now the warning bell sounds
all the trick'ling sands are run down,
not from the hourglass but out from the desert and onto the pastures
both silting the rivers and burying houses.

So sometimes, when the setting sun, floods the fields of spring,
I'll find my thoughts will run on how ev'ry thing seems to be seems to be so fragile,
seems to be so frail an apple blossom in a desert opening

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