Let the dreams that are gone sleep fast, my love,
the tears and the fears of yesterday's storm,
for the darkness you saw is past, my love,
so smile and a new day's born.
And the seasons of life will go on, my love,
and the sunshine will ripen the corn,
and the reason you smile after crying, love,
is hidden high in the Hills of Lorne.
Let the tears that you shed fall sweet, my love,
for pain goes, and rainbows come without warning:
the secrets beneath your feet, my love,
are flowers which are not yet born.
And the seasons of life will go on, my love,
and the sails of your ship will be torn,
but the reason you laugh after weeping love
is hidden deep in the Hills of Lorne.
Yes, the seasons will always return, my love,
and the heart-aches of life must be born,
but the reason we live after dying, love,
is hidden safe in the Hills of Lorne.