Rhythm Of The Time

In and out the seasons, in and out the door
The meadows and the woodland, out across the moor
Bread for the table, fodder for the store
There’s a whistle on the breeze in the morning
The men rise early to sharpen up their scythes
Their shirtsleeves rolled and their hats brimmed wide
There’s method in their muscle as they move on down the line
There’s a whistle on the breeze in the morning
Can you feel the rhythm of the time
Can you feel the rhythm of the time
Can you feel the rhythm of the time
Can you feel the rhythm of the changing time
The line is steady as the mowers make their way
They take a drop of cider in the heat of the day
The harvest is shared in the time-honoured way
There’s a whistle on the breeze in the morning
In and out the factory, in and out the mine
The office in the city and the market town
The mowers they are moving in the rhythm of the time
There’s a whistle on the breeze in the morning
Can you feel the rhythm of the time
Can you feel the rhythm of the time
Can you feel the rhythm of the time
Can you feel the rhythm of the changing time
Penny for a farthing, penny for a ride
Penny for your thoughts and a penny for the bride
Penny for the poor man who’s left high and dry
And a wave and a whistle in the morning
In and out the ages, in and out the years
Love lies a-courting jealousy and fears
There was in the beginning and there will always be
A whistle on the breeze in the morning
Life’s a moving picture, we capture it in frames
The image of the perfect and the image of the lame
In the eyes of the mowers we are all the same
There’s a whistle on the breeze in the morning
Can you feel the rhythm of the time
Can you feel the rhythm of the time
Can you feel the rhythm of the time
Can you feel the rhythm of the changing time