Music Video

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Listen to The King Is Dead by The Decemberists
ALBUMThe King Is DeadThe Decemberists
Listen to Dad Rock Essentials featuring The Decemberists
PLAYLISTDad Rock EssentialsApple Music Classic Rock
Listen to Summer Road Trip featuring The Decemberists
PLAYLISTSummer Road TripApple Music Vacation
Listen to Golf featuring The Decemberists
PLAYLISTGolfApple Music
Listen to The Decemberists Essentials featuring The Decemberists
PLAYLISTThe Decemberists EssentialsApple Music Indie
Listen to Behind the Boards: Tucker Martine featuring The Decemberists
PLAYLISTBehind the Boards: Tucker MartineApple Music Alternative
Listen to Inspired by Bob Dylan featuring The Decemberists
PLAYLISTInspired by Bob DylanApple Music Rock
Listen to The Decemberists: Deep Cuts featuring The Decemberists
PLAYLISTThe Decemberists: Deep CutsApple Music Alternative
Listen to Portland Timbers featuring The Decemberists
PLAYLISTPortland TimbersApple Music

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
The Decemberists
The Decemberists
Performer
Colin Meloy
Colin Meloy
Acoustic Guitar
Chris Funk
Chris Funk
Guitar
Jenny Conlee
Jenny Conlee
Organ
John Moen
John Moen
Percussion
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Colin Meloy
Colin Meloy
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Tucker Martine
Tucker Martine
Producer
Colin Meloy
Colin Meloy
Producer
Chris Funk
Chris Funk
Producer
Jenny Conlee
Jenny Conlee
Producer
John Moen
John Moen
Producer
Stephen Marcussen
Stephen Marcussen
Mastering Engineer
Rich Hipp
Rich Hipp
Assistant Recording Engineer
Nate Query
Nate Query
Producer
Clinton Welander
Clinton Welander
Assistant Recording Engineer

Lyrics

On a winter's Sunday I go To clear away the snow and green the ground below April, all an ocean away, is this the better way to spend the day? Keeping the winter at bay What were the words I meant to say before you left? When I could see your breath lead where you were going to Maybe I should just let it be and maybe it will all come back to me Sing, oh, January hymn How I lived a childhood in snow And all my teens in tow, stuffed in strata of clothes Pale the winter days after dark Wandering the gray memorial park, a fleeting beating of hearts What were the words I meant to say before you left? When I could see her breath lead where she was going to Maybe I should just let it be and maybe it will all come back to me Sing, oh, Janu, oh January, oh
Writer(s): Colin Meloy Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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