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