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lyrics

Oh the days are warm the nights are crisp
Turn turn the apple press
Of all the year this time is best
And oh how fine are the apples

The lakes are misty in the morn
Turn turn the apple press
The ghost of summer lingers on
And oh how fine are the apples

The geese are flying overhead
Turn turn the apple press
They call to us that summer's dead
And oh how fine are the apples

But never mind that summer's lost
Turn turn the apple press
Harvest comes with autumns frost
And oh how fine are the apples

The flowers of spring do feed the soul
Turn turn the apple press
The fruits of autumn feed us all
And oh how fine are the apples

The trees are bending with their weight
Turn turn the apple press
We'll pick them clean to make them straight
And oh how fine are the apples

And when we've picked and cut and squeezed
Turn turn the apple press
We'll share our nectar with the bees
And oh how fine are the apples

And when bees and all have drunk their fill
Turn turn the apple press
We'll feel the warmth of summer still
And oh how fine are the apples

credits

from Tumbling Through The Stream Of Days, released January 1, 1997

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Betty and the Baby Boomers New Paltz, New York

An acoustic folk quintet from New York's Hudson Valley. Folk song magazine Sing Out! described the group as “a refreshing reminder of the halcyon days of American folk music” and the CD [Tumbling Through the Stream of Days] as “an enthusiastic testament to the sheer joy of singing and playing music.” ... more

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