| G | A | D | Em | |
| Sit by my | side, come as | close as the | air, |
| G | A | Bm | Em | A | |
| Share in a | memory of | grace, and | wander in my | words, |
| D | Em | A | D | |
| Dream about he | pictures that I | play, of | changes. |
| Verse 2 |
| Green leaves of summer, turn red in the fall, |
| To brown and to yellow they fade, and then they have to die, |
| Trapped within the circle time parade, of changes. |
| Verse 3 |
| Scenes of my young years were warm in my mind, |
| Visions of shadows that chime, 'til one day I returned, and |
| found they were the victims of the vines, of changes. The |
| Verse 4 |
| world spinning madly, it drifts in the dark, |
| Swings through a hollow of haze, a race around that stars, a |
| journey through the universe ablaze, with changes. |
| Verse 5 |
| Moments of magic will glow in the night, all |
| fears of the forest are gone, and when the moment breaks, They're |
| swept away by golden drops of dawn, of changes. |
| Verse 6 |
| Passions will part, to a strange melody, as |
| fires will sometimes burn cold, like petals in the wind, |
| We're puppets to the silver strings of souls, of changes. Your |
| Verse 7 |
| tears will be trembling, not here, somewhere else, one |
| last cup of wine we will pour, and I'll kiss you one more time |
| And leave you on the rolling river shore, of changes. So |
| Verse 8 |
| sit by my side, come as close as the air, |
| Share in a memory of grace, and wander in my words, |
| Dream about he pictures that I play, of changes. |
| ar010@detroit.freenet.org |
| "Foreign aid is the act of taking money from the working class of a rich |
| country, and giving it to the rich people in a poor country." |