Sometimes in the autumn on a misty gray dawn
When trees drift to sleep and golden leaves fall
High up in the moorlands, cold silent and calm
I’d watch the sun cut the horizon and try to figure it all

 There’s folk that would hurt you to take what you own
And some who just live to destroy and deface
Some can’t see nothing beyond the walls of their home
They all miss the beauty that surrounds this still place

 So see what I’m seeing, look through these eyes
At the green rolling pastures and the blood red sunrise
The fox on the hillside, yeah the heron on the wing
One more new morning to make a tramp feel like a king

 <Instrumental>

 Now the sun’s in the sky and it’s warm on my face (I see)
Colours of autumn and the glint off a brook
I take the scent of the forest with its misty embrace
It’s time to go home now, time for one long last look

 And see what I’m seeing, look through these eyes
At the green rolling pastures and the blood red sunrise
The fox on the hillside, yeah the heron on the wing
One more new morning to make a tramp feel like a king

 Now I don’t know what’s gone wrong with you
I don’t know how you can’t see it too
Why don’t you, why don’t you just
Turn around, man; turn around and…

 See what I’m seeing look with these eyes
The truth’s in this vista, there’s no need for lies
It’s pure and it’s special, but kind of sad too
When it seems that there’s no one left to feel like I do.

16 March 1998. rev; December 2001 c. A.Allinson