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seven bridges out from town, this evening resting on a constant sound
of falling water and the wind above the waves
the light is turning to my love's own eyes, naming moments to forever rise
sound on sound and all the air beneath the sky

I went north, on my way, I couldn't read or write
the signs that said 'take it slow, now, there is nowhere to go'
I went north

those familiar songs are not the only ones we sing
ah, to have them though, it is a good and welcome thing

like all the memories of the sun alone, walking late across the grass and stone
going down behind the hill to pass the night
whispers sound just like the truth sometimes, waking echoes with forever chimes
sound on sound and all the air beneath the sky

so I went home, on my way, I couldn't read or write
the signs that said 'anymore, now, there is nowhere to go'
I went home

those familiar songs are not the only ones we sing
late in summertime when all the birds are on the wing
you can listen well and to the memories that they bring
but those familiar songs are not the only ones we sing


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