
As I Wind Down the Pines The Tragically Hip
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As I wind down the pines
It's the lines on your face
Playing on your face
Without thinking so much
As abandoning thought
I went through open country
Over water, meadows, streams
Lakes and wires and roosts in reeds
To a nest in the hole of this dead tree
To play without stopping or pause
Not for silence, not for applause
Not without thinking
And thinking is abandoning thought
As I wind down the pines
It's the lines on your face
Playing on your face
It's the lines on your face
Playing on your face
Without thinking so much
As abandoning thought
I went through open country
Over water, meadows, streams
Lakes and wires and roosts in reeds
To a nest in the hole of this dead tree
To play without stopping or pause
Not for silence, not for applause
Not without thinking
And thinking is abandoning thought
As I wind down the pines
It's the lines on your face
Playing on your face
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