Kristopher Marentette: piano, synths, vocals
Paul Richard: drums, vocals
Marc Haslip: bass
Jim O’Neil: guitars, vocals
Lee Cochrane: guitars, vocals
Lyrics
in the still and chill of a perfect autumn day
on my knees in the trees
unafraid of the things i’d say
the silence broken by my voice
borne on the wind i had no choice
but dare to share my secrets in this way
me in the pressing forest gloom
you somewhere in a darkened room
in my mind you’re kind and far away
light and bright in the verdant autumn hue
praise the day’s refusal to subdue
in soft surrender when the snow
erases everything below
and renders our remembrances anew
you and me and whispers on the wind
what is, what’s not, what’s always been
young and old, weak and bold
two sides of a tale that’s old as
you and me and whispers on the wind
when near, no fear could
cause the heart to cry
apart, the heart grew mournful for reply
but far below the deafening roar
from places where we roamed before
in the wistful sigh of the evening breeze
the rustle of the maple leaves
you see, that’s me
and my foolish lullaby
you and me and whispers on the wind
what is, what’s not, what’s always been
young and old, weak and bold
two sides of a tale that’s told of
you and me and whispers on the wind
in the still and chill of a perfect autumn day
on my knees in the trees
unafraid of the things i’d say
the silence broken by my voice
borne on the wind i had no choice
but dare to share my secrets in this way
me in the pressing forest gloom
you somewhere in a darkened room
in my mind you’re kind and far away
light and bright in the verdant autumn hue
praise the day’s refusal to subdue
in soft surrender when the snow
erases everything below
and renders our remembrances anew
you and me and whispers on the wind
what is, what’s not, what’s always been
young and old, weak and bold
two sides of a tale that’s old as
you and me and whispers on the wind
when near, no fear could
cause the heart to cry
apart, the heart grew mournful for reply
but far below the deafening roar
from places where we roamed before
in the wistful sigh of the evening breeze
the rustle of the maple leaves
you see, that’s me
and my foolish lullaby
you and me and whispers on the wind
what is, what’s not, what’s always been
young and old, weak and bold
two sides of a tale that’s told of
you and me and whispers on the wind