Lyrics: A Winter Scene
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
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
Story
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. When we returned from travelling, after two years, this tune, among the rest of the many I ever played for my Dad, resonated with him. That makes it special for me. In 2011 I added several verses that segued both tune and words but ostensibly it remains intact from that winter morning so many years ago. Perhaps it was the influence of that icy third floor flat we rented at 61 Manor Avenue.
Credits
Peter Thorne - Words and Music
Sean Roberts - Acoustic Guitar/Mandolin
Alex Paris - Electric Bass