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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Grateful Dead
Grateful Dead
Performer
Jerry Garcia
Jerry Garcia
Vocals
Bill Kreutzmann
Bill Kreutzmann
Drums
Bob Weir
Bob Weir
Vocals
Donna Jean Godchaux
Donna Jean Godchaux
Vocals
Keith Godchaux
Keith Godchaux
Piano
Phil Lesh
Phil Lesh
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Jerry Garcia
Jerry Garcia
Arranger
Robert Hunter
Robert Hunter
Songwriter
Bill Kreutzmann
Bill Kreutzmann
Arranger
Bob Weir
Bob Weir
Arranger
Donna Jean Godchaux
Donna Jean Godchaux
Arranger
Keith Godchaux
Keith Godchaux
Arranger
Phil Lesh
Phil Lesh
Arranger
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Jerry Garcia
Jerry Garcia
Producer
Bill Kreutzmann
Bill Kreutzmann
Producer
Bob Weir
Bob Weir
Producer
Donna Jean Godchaux
Donna Jean Godchaux
Producer
Keith Godchaux
Keith Godchaux
Producer
Phil Lesh
Phil Lesh
Producer
Jeffrey Norman
Jeffrey Norman
Engineer
David Lemieux
David Lemieux
Producer
Kidd Candelario
Kidd Candelario
Producer

Songtexte

Right outside this lazy summer home You ain't got time to call your soul a critic no Right outside the lazy gate of winter's summer home Wonderin' where the nut-thatch winters Wings a mile long just carried the bird away Wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world The heart has its beaches, its homeland and thoughts of its own Wake now, discover that you are the song that the mornin' brings But the heart has its seasons, its evenins and songs of its own There comes a redeemer, and he slowly too fades away And there follows his wagon behind him that's loaded with clay And the seeds that were silent all burst into bloom, and decay And night comes so quiet, it's close on the heels of the day Wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world The heart has its beaches, its homeland and thoughts of its own Wake now, discover that you are the song that the mornin' brings The heart has its seasons, its evenin's and songs of its own Sometimes we live no particular way but our own And sometimes we visit your country and live in your home Sometimes we ride on your horses, sometimes we walk alone Sometimes the songs that we hear are just songs of our own Wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world The heart has its beaches, its homeland and thoughts of its own Wake now, discover that you are the song that the mornin' brings But the heart has its seasons, its evenin's and songs of its own
Writer(s): Robert C Christie Hunter, Jerome J Garcia Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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