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letra de the gentle rain of england - vera johnson

on the banks of the rivière des prairies
in quebec, at the place called chomedey
the trees are bare of leaves
and a lonely robin grieves
for his friends have spread their wings and flown away
i watch the cold black waters flowing eastward
and my thoughts are flowing with them to the sea
so i whisper to the waves
what my hungry spirit craves
and i wish they’d act as messengers for me

tell my love that onе day i’ll be with him
where thе hills are low and misty green
and the roads wind between the hawth-rn hedges
and we’ll walk in the gentle rain of england

in the sky, sullen clouds are drifting slowly
there’s a chill in the air that smells of snow
and in every window box
there are empty flower stalks
where geraniums and pansies used to glow
all the leaves are red and gold and yellow
crumpled carpets ’til the breezes set them free
then they twist and turn and spin
by the river, then fall in
and they set out on a voyage to the sea
tell my love that one day i’ll be with him
where the hills are low and misty green
and the roads wind between the hawth-rn hedges
and we’ll walk in the gentle rain of england

there’s a west wind that’s cold and full of bl-ster
roaring threats that the snow is on its way
it sn-tches at a kite
lifts it almost out of sight
as it’s pausing for a moment just to play
then it rushes towards the grey atlantic
and i wonder if somewhere over there
swooping down from up above
it may find the one i love
and will take delight in tangling his hair

tell my love that one day i’ll be with him
where the hills are low and misty green
and the roads wind between the hawth-rn hedges
and we’ll walk in the gentle rain of england

- vera johnson

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