Lyrics: Bushes and Briars

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I can’t believe that it’s so cold
And there ain’t been no snow.
The sound of music it comes to me
From every place I go.

Sunday morning, there’s no one in church
But the clergy’s chosen man
And he is fine I won’t worry about him
Got the book in his hand.

There’s a bitter east wind and the fields are swaying
The crows are round their nests.
I wonder what he’s in there saying
To all those souls at rest.

I see the path which led to the door
And the clergy’s chosen man
Bushes and briars, you and I
Where do we stand?

I wonder if he knows I’m here,
Watching the briars grow.
And all these people beneath my shoes,
I wonder if they know.

There was a time when every last one,
Knew a clergy’s chosen man.
Where are they now? Thistles and thorns
Among the sand.

I can’t believe that it’s so cold
And there ain’t been no snow.
The sound of music it comes to me,
From every place I go.

Sunday morning, there’s no one in church
But the clergy’s chosen man.
Bushes and briars, thistles and thorns
Upon the land.

Sandy Denny