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Scott Simpson
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Winter Fields
Winter Fields
Out here in these winter fields
silence is the only thing that's growing,
even now when it's not snowing
and there's nothing but the wind.
And I want to know--- do you remember
weren't those seeds that we were sowing?
Didn't our bodies ache with knowing
that our love would never end?
Hey-hey-yey-ee-yey-ee-ay
Hey-hey-yey-ee-yey-ee-ay
Upstairs where the children sleep
and dream of their tomorrows,
do you think they know our sorrows---
how hard it is, sometimes, to break the ground?
Down stairs, we are in our chairs
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with nothing to disturb us,
but the thing that makes me nervous
is how hard it is, sometimes, to make a sound.
Hey-hey-yey-ee-yey-ee-ay
Hey-hey-yey-ee-yey-ee-ay
Out here in these winter fields…
Out here in these winter fields…
Out here in these winter fields…
Out here in these winter fields…
There's nothing but the wind.
Hey-hey-yey-ee-yey-ee-ay
Hey-hey-yey-ee-yey-ee-ay
Hey-hey-yey-ee-yey-ee-ay
Hey-hey-yey-ee-yey-ee-ay
There's nothing but the wind.
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