From the recording Winter's on the Rise
Late Autumn - Innisfil Beach
I remember that day vividly. I was sitting on a rock overlooking Lake Simcoe when Mary, my artist confidant, stopped for a chat. She was light-hearted and left me to my youthful sadness. I’d spent the summer in our run-down family cottage writing songs and she was my sounding board.
The last leaves were falling, the waves were high, and a swallow crashed into the rocks and died. The night was approaching and I could feel winter was near.
I left a part of myself back there that day.
It was a time of change, a realization that life would never be the same.
Fredrick Brooks - Guitars, Bass Guitar, Keyboards, Harmonica
Chris Pezzarello - Drums
Produced by Fredrick Brooks
Written by Fredrick Brooks
Photo by Caroline Brooks
Lyrics
Laugh, laugh old Mary
The fighter swallows taken his life
I’ve been to the waterfront
And winter’s on the rise
The wind has whipped the white crowns
Pebbles argue on the shore
And the sky looks sad in the pale moonlight
Blow on winter wind - I hear your call
The leaves like passengers
Nod their heads in slow release
And I’m the poet with no words to stand
This night will hold no peace
So laugh, laugh old Mary
The fighter swallows taken his life
I’ve been to the waterfront
And winter’s on the rise
©Fredrick Brooks