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The Quiet Life

A poem written in the '90s with a newly added chorus became probably my best lyric. Fits the Country/Folk music perfectly. Lyrics: [Verse 1] As I head into my twilight days, My thoughts oft turn towards that place, Where one day I’ll make my base: The hills where the purple heather grows; Where Scafell is blanched by winter snows. And winter sun will warm my face. [Verse 1] Oh happy times in the coming years, To bid farewell to all those tears, Born by stress and daily fears. No longer a slave to the need for sales; Nor fearing threats borne in the mail. Oh joy! For the time grows ever near. [Chorus] We've always wanted the quiet life Only disturbed by Sunday's bells A perfect setting after this busy life Will it happen? Only time will tell To slow our pace 'neath Lakeland fells [Verse 2] Somewhere within that rural scene, Lies the house that dwells inside my dream; The verdant lawns and in between, The green slate path leads to the lane, Which to the inn does lead our way. And beery discourse ‘neath oaken beams. [Verse 1] The daytime saunter around the lake; The Grasmere track we love to take. Or perchance a picnic on Langdale Pikes, For the wondrous prospect down the vale, Then to high tea in Troutbeck Dale. Proud of our conquest relived over cakes. [Chorus] We've always wanted the quiet life Only disturbed by Sunday's bells A perfect setting after this busy life Will it happen? Only time will tell To slow our pace 'neath Lakeland fells [Bridge] And the occasional jaunt to Keswick Town, To pass new dreamers as they stroll around, Who just like us, will make a vow To end their days below ancient fells. They buy old houses the natives sell, When they have laid us in the ground.