From the recording Orphans & Relics (MP3)
© 2014 Nelson Wright
Down by the miller’s wheel, the night was fine,
The yellow moon rose over the creek, and I first made you mine.
The water surged and the big wheel turned around,
We found each other in the pale moonlight, and surrendered to that sound.
You always said there’d be a time when the wheel would come to mind,
How the water cleaved the race, splayed out on the blades,
Slipped into the stream, and left not a trace behind.
Left not a trace behind.
The summer sky was dark and clear that night,
The stars above, wheeled around, a single point of light.
Circles within circles, the sky it spun around,
Marking off the minutes ‘til the yellow moon went down.
You said the world’s a restless thing, neither cruel nor kind,
Moon comes up, sets again, water runs on down,
Stars wheel around, there are no ties that bind.
There are no ties that bind.
There are no ties that bind you said, no vows to redeem,
Once the wheel turns ‘round, the past is just a dream,
Love is just a ripple in a stream.
Down in the depot, where the soot makes it hard to see,
Driving wheels, turned around, and took you away from me.
I tried to watch, the cold wheels cover ground,
Spanning rusty joints, making such a sorry sound.
You always said what’s done is done, ain’t nothing to unwind,
Once the whistle sounds, the running gear starts up,
Drivers turn around, and the past gets left behind.
The past gets left behind.