I can hear the autumn wind, blowing through the trees.
I can hear the branches panting, as they're dancing in the breeze.
I hear the squirrels pushing nuts, for when they'll be sojourning,
But I can't hear the world turning.

I hear the sound of laughter, and the weeping pain of sorrow.
I hear a child begging for the day after tomorrow.
I hear the prayers of gratitude, and I hear the prayers of yearning,
But I can't hear the world turning.

Blossoms start to bloom; birds are building nests;
But we our only shown what our conscious manifests.
You can spend your life completely in the dark,
Ignoring the tree for the bark.

I hear the sound of footsteps as the guards begin their changing.
I hear a former first-chair, after a rearranging.
I hear the toast of yesterday quietly adjourning,
But I can't hear the world turning.

Blossoms start to bloom; birds are building nests;
But we our only shown what our conscious manifests.
You can spend your life completely in the dark,
Ignoring the tree for the bark.

I hear two lovers say goodbye; I hear the dust a-blowing.
I hear the morning church bells ring; I hear the cock a-crowing.
I hear a woman blowing out the candle that was burning,
But I can't hear the world turning