|
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
| The Mill © Copyright George Papavgeris, May 2002 Where wind blows freely from the sea And grass is never still A ship of stone with many sails There stands atop the hill. Its capstan anchor never pulled It has no keel or mast Yet when the sails with wind are full Like birds they wheel so fast. As far as you can see from here The barley and wheat that's grown All down this chute will disappear To be ground between its stones. And when the baker has new flour You smell it down the street No one outside the county Has tasted bread so sweet. Their names will carve upon its door The carters while they wait And at the top a carving reads Sixteen seventy eight. When Nelson sailed his Victory From here it could be seen. And armies marched and fed here since Victoria was queen. My father worked it all his life, Before him his father too. One day, my son, before too long It will be left to you. The miller's apron you will wear And wear it do with pride And may you always be as strong As the wind that blows outside. CHORUS It counts no miles but centuries It stands, yet is never still. As long as there is air to breathe, There's wind to turn the mill. In summer heat and autumn rain And even in winter chill, As long as there is air to breathe, There's wind to turn the mill |
You can buy George's albums directly with PayPal secure payment
George's CDs are manufactured by Bump Studios
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
