Coming Home کے بول

When trees are turning Chimney smoke is curling Fallen leaves are swirling I'll be coming home When geese are wending Apple branches bending When the summer's ending I'll be coming home When Autumn's first frost Glistens on the corn stalks The bales of hay and sweet squash I'll be coming home And hill and meadow Are crimson, rust and yellow When the fruits of August mellow I'll be coming home And rest will greet me Love will receive me And joy, like a deep red wine Fill my heart I have been trodding The furrowed fields of summer Footsteps heavy under The seeds I've come to sow When some have sprouted And I have hoped and doubted And every bushel's counted I'll be coming home And rest will greet me Love will receive me And joy, like a deep red wine Fill my heart Nights will be cold then Foxes in their holes then Skies awaiting snow when I'll be coming home When hearths are burning Tables set with sterling I will be returning