Name: 'Seasons' / W Richard Blum
Duration: 4 min 18 s
Channel: Richard Blum (rittmo') and Nadia Cripps
Description: "'Seasons' / W Richard Blum" is a song by Nadia Cripps. 'Seasons' Copyright© 2000-2011 by Richard Blum (lyrics, reading) and Nadia Cripps (music, keyboard, photo).

'Seasons' / W Richard Blum

Nadia Cripps

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Nadia Cripps

Hello. My name is Nadia. I compose songs and instrumentals. I play the piano/keyboard. Some of my music is available for purchase via Soundclick and Bandcamp.

Hello. Thank you very much for visiting my site. My name is Nadia Cripps. I'm a piano teacher, a composer and a songwriter. I compose songs and instrumentals. Some of the songs are co-written with other songwriters who write lyrics. Many songs reached semi-finals, runner ups, honorable mention in UK Songwriting Contest and Song Of The Year Songwriting Contest. Four compositions ("Gone With The Wave", "The Swan", "Kindness I Mainly Recall" and "Dancing Snow") reached the Finals in UK Songwriting Contest (in 2008, 2009 and 2010) and Song Of The Year Songwriting Contest (April 2006).

Song Info

Genre

Podcasts • Music Talk

Charts

Peak #40

Peak in subgenre #7

Author

Richard Blum (rittmo') and Nadia Cripps

Rights

2000-2011

Uploaded

August 23, 2011

Track Files

MP3

MP3 3.9 MB • 128 kbps • 4:18

Story behind the song

Collaboration on 50/90.

Lyrics

Seasons
Copyright© 2000-2011 by Richard Blum (rittmo') (lyrics, reading) and 
Nadia Cripps (music, keyboard).
-
in the ripe bloom of spring
she waved a dandelion, in a circular ring
in a world of dancing cattipillars, she's calmly hot
she whispers silently, humming softly, he loves me he loves me not
-
in the twirling colors of fall
some of the spirals hang suspended, as if enthralled
along lovers lane the prettiest leaves will be collected and preserved
the universe in and of itself is perfect, she walks alone, but with an open purse
-
in the blankness of winter
i stopped to brush some lint off her
she neighed, most fillies love to be groomed
some say never can tell, but some things can be assumed
-
in the rampant heat of summer
her sundown clouds are blackening towards thunder
she's growing tired of the questions, wilting in the face of disaster
she's convinced the rumblings in the atmoshere are echoes of lost laughter
-
four seasons each with it's own tale..............nights at the round table
the real magically blends inside a lovers fantasy, in a book of fables
-
in the ripe bloom of spring
in the twirling colors of fall
in the blankness of winter
in the rampant heat of summer
-
four seasons each with it's own tale..............nights at the round table
the real magically blends inside a lovers fantasy, in a book of fables
-

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