The Seasons Roger Whittaker

In eighteen hundred ninety eight
Grandpa built a fence around the farm
And in that fence he put a gate
Behind the ate he put a road
That led up to a house of wood
That grandpa took a year to build
And when he done to him his house of wood looked good

Now the seasons come and the seasons go
Green follows brown sun follow snow
And trough it all he ploughed the land
He did it all with his own hand

In nineteen hundred and nine
Grandpa turned a girl into a wife
And in the turning took his time
Now with his wife he shared the load
And every day the work was done
And in a year within that house
She bore a child – his first and only one a son

Now the seasons come and the seasons go
Green follows brown sun follow snow
And trough it all he ploughed the land
He did it all with his own hand