We would run through the fields to the silos
Empty of grain, we'd let ourselves in
Then scream and shout to the sound of the echoes
Laughter wasn't so hard to come by then

Dangling legs from the side of a wooden bridge
That creaked and groaned as if to soon give in
If that bridge still stands I call it a miracle
Miracles weren't so hard to come by then

From the fields of autumn leaves
To the gardens of stone
You've got to make yourself at home

Singing "In the Garden" for the early morning service
With the other kids, dressed in our Sunday best
Seeing all those faces in the congregation smiling
These were happy times, we were surely blessed

All the years that have passed since I last saw you
Filled with guilt and regret but some smiles
Wouldn't trade those days for a thousand others
So let's stop the clock for awhile

To the fields of autumn leaves
From the gardens of stone
You've got to make yourself at home