Rhythm Of The Time - Fairport Convention

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