Select language to translate this lyric
Standing in a field alone
Who was it who turned you into stone?
Who let your wooden cog wheels rot?
Who'll not be coming back to make the wheat from the corn fields?
The miller, he has another job
He worketh in a factory to earn his weekly bob.
There was a time before
When your sails played hopscotch with the wind
And your music was the soaring of
Fifty thousand revolutions on wings of nature's making
But now your silent like your store
Your body is all breaking and just the rats call you home.
Standing in a field alone
Who was it who turned you into stone?
Who let your wooden cog wheels rot?
Who'll not be coming back to make the wheat from the corn fields?
The miller, he has another job
He worketh in a factory to earn his weekly bob.
- Album:
- Prog Rocks! [5 Component Labels Set]
- Old Grey Whistle Test Folk
- Pipedream
- Back to Basics
- Statues & Liberties
- Phantoms
- The Fog On the Tyne
- Statues and Liberties
- Alright On The Night
- Mojo Presents: Well... All Right!
- Squire
- We Can Swing Together
- When the War Is Over
- Transatlantic Folk Box Set
- Refugees: A Charisma Records Anthology 1969-1978
- Anthems in Eden: An Anthology of British & Irish Folk...
- The Best Folk Album in the World... Ever!
- Simply Celtic Moods
- Old Grey Whistle Test Catalogue
- Anthems In Eden: An Anthology of British & Irish Folk...