(Verse 1) The cedar chest is filled with lace and wool And letters tied in ribbons turning gray The afternoon is quiet and so full Of things we meant to find the words to say (Verse 2) I watch the dust motes dancing in the light That spills across the old linoleum floor The shadows lengthen as the day turns night And footsteps fade outside the kitchen door (Chorus) For time is just a weaver at the loom And we are just the threads of gold and blue We trace our patterns in an empty room And spin the old years into something new (Verse 3) The apple trees are heavy with the yield Of sweet September ripening on the bough A flock of blackbirds rises from the field The earth is resting from the heavy plow (Chorus) For time is just a weaver at the loom And we are just the threads of gold and blue We trace our patterns in an empty room And spin the old years into something new (Bridge) It’s a hard thing letting go of what you love And watching it drift out into the deep But there’s a wider sky that bends above And promises the land is ours to keep (Verse 4) So stoke the fire and pour another cup The wind is rising from the canyon floor We’ll watch the evening stars come climbing up And leave the worries outside of our door (Outro) Just threads of gold and blue... Woven into the night... Underneath the fading light.
