0:00 / ???
  1. 12 Seasons Search
In cart Not available Out of stock

Rick's Saga Song

Kaitlin Grady Cello
Jon Shain Guitar
FjVentre, Bass and keyboards

Lyrics

I loved a girl in winter, though
In February’s thaw our love
Fell off forlorn like icicles
From afternooning eaves.
She kissed me, maid of spring and sprightly,
Not unkindly, quite politely,
Laughing evanesced
Into the limey-dimey leaves.
Thinking that there must be more,
Not knowing I was looking for the love I’d lost
I searched a season, set my heart at ease.

I searched on cheery city nights
Of liquor laughter pretty lights,
But friends and busy men
Could not outweigh the bleary days.
While I searched, it seemed they’d found.
They’d pass me by eyes on the ground,
Like polished marbles fallin’ through
some molded plastic maze

On a summer sailboat ride,
Shiftless, drifting with the tide
Between the sky and sea
a playful dolphin circled me.
Of silent rounds he had his fill,
Then smiled and did a belly roll
And flashing plumbed the greening depths
of crystal mystery.
I dove to follow,
Swallowed only blue salinity.

Sitting in an August orchard,
Having lost all lust, a tortured,
Sultry, sulky youth
With naught to do but lie and laze,
There came a man in coveralls-
He seemed to be a lover of all life
And as he saw me out
His cheerful voice he raised:
“Glory in the golden sunshine;
Gather grapes and make sweet wine.
For Son, you know the nights
Will soon be longer than the days.”
And saying this he picked himself
A pocketful of apples,
And whilstling disappeared into the silver August Haze

Sitting in an August orchard,
Having lost all lust, a tortured,
Sultry, sulky youth
With naught to do but lie and laze,
There came a man in coveralls-
He seemed to be a lover of all life
And as he saw me out
His cheerful voice he raised:
“Glory in the golden sunshine;
Gather grapes and make sweet wine.
For Son, you know the nights
Will soon be longer than the days.”
And saying this he picked himself
A pocketful of apples,
And whistling disappeared
Into the silver August haze.

I met a woman in October
With my season almost ovesr,
On a dusky hilltop
Overlooking everywhere.
Words of greeting had we none:
By silent, secret marks we knew
We’d found a place for winter,
And we’d see each other there:
Casting slender shadows
In the cold November sun,
Throwing out sharp shadows
In the gold November air.