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The Knitting Song and About Dawn

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The Knitting Song and About Dawn
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 Knitting Song
(Hamilton/Hutchings)

In a rocker Sophie sits
And as she rocks she slowly knits,
All her thoughts are of the one
Who’ll wear the garment when it’s done.
 
Knit one — everyone may see,
Knit two — he’s the love for me,
Knit three — with each stitch we bind,
Knit four — thee and me entwined.
 
 
Sitting staring at his beer,
We may witness Sophie’s dear,
Ways to cut the ties that bind
Occupy his anxious mind.
 
Knit one — is a freedom lost,
Knit two — is too great a cost,
Knit three — is a net that holds,
Knit four — how the web enfolds.
 
Some may knit to fill a void,
An empty hour to patch a glove,
A time to plan the week ahead;
For some it is an act of love.
 
Her gift could be the thing he needs
To stop him feeling cold and tight;
When he puts it on and starts to glow
The future could be looking bright.
 
Knit one - this is very strange,
Knit two — but it makes a change,
Knit three — now my mind is clear,
Knit four — there’s nothing more to fear.
 
Perhaps, instead of fearing nets
And the ties that bind,
He takes up needles and some wool,
And thinking of a different kind?

 About Dawn
(Hamilton/Hutchings)

I learned about dawn when I started to gig,
Playing late and travelling home through the night;
Sharing a van with a p.a. rig
And tumbling out in emerging light.
 
I’d nod to a tramp or chat to a cat,
As the milkman was gliding along on his float,
Over my ears I would pull my hat
And close to my body I hug my coat.
 
Chorus:
Then in the gloom came a chorus of birds
It started as light as a passing breeze
And swelled to a symphony challenging words
From an orchestra hidden in the trees.
 
Now I live in the country and when I can’t sleep
I stand by the window and taste the air;
Out in the fields there are shapes of sheep,
And a fox trots on to who knows where.
 
Chorus:
Then in the gloom comes a chorus of birds
It starts as light as a passing breeze
And swells to a symphony challenging words
From an orchestra hidden in the trees.
 
It’s the time of day when the mind plays tricks,
Half asleep, half awake, caught in between;
Over and over I try to fix
On an image at. dawn that I’ve lately seen.
 
A spluttering van comes over the rise
And unloads its cargo of crumpled youth;
I can just about see through misty eyes
The very first hand where I learned the truth,..
 
That dawn is the holiest time of all,
In town and country it’s just the same,
And everything special you may recall
Is remembered best in this daybreak frame.
 
Chorus:
And in the gloom comes a chorus of birds,
It starts as light as a passing breeze
And swells to a symphony challenging words
From an orchestra hidden in the trees.

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