I walked in my greatcoat down through the days of the leaves.
No before after, yes after before, we were shining our light into the days of blooming wonder
in the eternal presence, in the presence of the flame.
Didn’t I come to bring you a sense of wonder? Didn’t I come to lift your fiery vision bright?
Didn’t I come to bring you a sense of wonder in the flame?

On and on and on and on we kept singing our song,
over Newtonards and Comber, Gransha and the Ballystockart Road.
With Boffyflow and Spike, I said I could describe the leaves for Samuel and Felicity-
rich, red browny, half burnt orange and green.
Didn’t I come to bring you a sense of wonder? Didn’t I come to lift your fiery vision bright?
Didn’t I come to bring you a sense of wonder in the flame?

It’s easy to describe the leaves in the autumn and it’s oh, so easy in the Spring.
But down through January and February, it’s a very different thing.

On and on and on, through the winter of our discontent.
When the wind blows up the collar and the ears are frostbitten too,
I said I could describe the leaves for Samuel and what it means to you and me.
You may call my love Sophia, but I call my love Philosophy.
Didn’t I come to bring you a sense of wonder? Didn’t I come to lift your fiery vision bright?
Didn’t I come to bring you a sense of wonder in the flame?

Wee Alfie at the Castle Picture House on the Castlereagh Road,
whistling on the corner next door where he kept Johnny Mack Brown’s horse.
O Solo Mio by McGimsey and the man who played the saw outside the city hall.
Pastie suppers down at Davey’s chipper, gravy rings, barnbracks, wagon wheels, snowballs.

A sense of wonder…