And the old stream from the mountain bank high to the river flow
And across the quiet old countryside the cold north east wind blow.
The wise one she said to me the past you should leave go
You talk of redwings chirping on the bare and windblown hedgerow
Just listening to you reminiscing of weather wet and cold
Reminds me that such stories by so many have been told.
The loud caws of the hungry rooks upon the bare beech trees
And the temperatures at zero and a cold chill in the breeze
And the water overflowing in the flooded roadside drain
And the dark clouds above the mountain are pregnant with sleety rain.
Just memories of past decades and of a bleak Winter’s day
In a Land far north of this Land by old mountains far away
But the past has gone forever and as the wise one said
We must live in the present and the future is ahead.