Background

Christmas Day 1974 – London, England – I awoke early with the words and tune of a song in my head. It’s the only time I can say that words and tune came together preternaturally in my mind before I even picked up my guitar. Two years later, when we returned to Canada, this song, more than others, resonated with my Dad. That makes it doubly special for me. This piece touches on the essence of a Canadian winter played out in wind on drifty landscape, frosty faced tobogganers and the peace of a winter’s night.

Credits

Writer/composer – Pete Thorne
Acoustic Guitar/Mandolin – Sean Roberts
Electric Bass – Alex Paris

Lyrics

The fallen snow lies on the land
The barren maple tree still stands
Out in the field transfigured by the freeze
Across the hills of quietness
A wintry wind ‘ablowin songs of happiness
A winter scene

The snow has flown
The drifts have grown
And the evergreen trees
Are bending low
The northern lights ascending glow
In the dark of the northern dome

The last goodnights have all been said
The children all are in their beds
And quilts and dolls
And angels tall are by their heads tonight
And all the hearts are home.

Sleigh bells shake across the lake
And frozen river roads ya take
Where children skate
While grandma bakes at home
A wisp of smoke above the trees
The log fires warming up the hands and toes that freeze
Another winter scene

Sittin’ by the fire
Where the warm flames leap
Rememberin’ the winters
When the snow…was
Deeper than the windows
Up against the walls
And everybody got to stay home.

Toboggans racing down a hill
To spill upon the snow until…
The rosey cheeky children
Trudge on home again
Happy faces, laughing eyes
The healthy glows, the friends’ hellos the friends’ goodbyes
Another winter scene

The snow has flown
The drifts have grown
And the evergreen trees
Are bending low
The northern lights ascending glow
In the dark of the northern dome

The last goodnights have all been said
The children all are in their beds
And quilts and dolls
And angels tall are by their heads tonight
And all the hearts are home.

Hockey sticks and gloves and mitts
Are scattered on the old porch floor
As the children’s wet clothes heap
In a pile to be dried by the fire.

Oh the snow flies
In the midnight skies
And the world lies deep in slumber
Snowscapes and shadowed shapes
On the hallowed hills of home
Woo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo