To everything - turn, turn, turn
There is a season - turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose under heaven
A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep
To everything - turn, turn, turn
There is a season - turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose under heaven
A time to build up, a time to break down
A time to dance, a time to mourn
A time to cast away stones
A time to gather stones together
To everything - turn, turn, turn
There is a season - turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose under heaven
A time of love, a time of hate
A time of war, a time of peace
A time you may embrace
A time to refrain from embracing
To everything - turn, turn, turn
There is a season - turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose under heaven
A time to gain, a time to lose
A time to rend, a time to sew
A time to love, a time to hate
A time of peace, I swear it's not too late!
There is a season - turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose under heaven
A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep
To everything - turn, turn, turn
There is a season - turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose under heaven
A time to build up, a time to break down
A time to dance, a time to mourn
A time to cast away stones
A time to gather stones together
To everything - turn, turn, turn
There is a season - turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose under heaven
A time of love, a time of hate
A time of war, a time of peace
A time you may embrace
A time to refrain from embracing
To everything - turn, turn, turn
There is a season - turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose under heaven
A time to gain, a time to lose
A time to rend, a time to sew
A time to love, a time to hate
A time of peace, I swear it's not too late!
© The Byrds
6 comentarios:
"To everything - turn, turn, turn
There is a season - turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose under heaven"
No sé por qué, eso suena como de una década muy remota.
Muy guapa la foto.
Terremota, terremota, sí... ;)
Ah... esa era una de mis canciones favoritas. Todavía me emociona. Pero los recuerdos asociados me traen más dolor que placer.
Olores, melodías, etc... muchas veces llevan asociados recuerdos y la pena es que la evocación no sea a voluntad y veces nos produzcan dolor.
Peazo de foto...¿Dónde son esas escaleras?
Un saludo desde Cartes, primaaarrlll
Pos la escalera de entrada a la chabolita del Papa, primorllll, ahí no se andan con chiquitas ;)
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