![](https://ccmixter.org/content/Mr_Yesterday/daa2018SoundPedro9393x94.jpg)
Slow Fade
Mr_Yesterday
Sadness is a measure of humanity and withdrawal a form of protest in a culture that values most individuals only for their market potential. Seek peace.
C#m at 54 bpm. The rough mix and MIDI file include very rudimentary piano chords in case helpful.
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Slow Fade
Lyrics (cc)BY D A Ayer 2019-03-08
Standing on a rippling floe drifting on the summer sea
my feet are cold even though my eyes are stung with sweat.
Horizon’s getting higher though it’s farther off each day
and pretty soon the sun won’t even set.
It’s time…to do a slow fade…
time to slip into the cool shade…
to close my eyes and let forgotten dreams invade.
It’s time…to do a slow fade.
Walking through an empty house once the dinner guests have gone
my heart is warm but my ears still ringing
from conversation as predictable as death.
This hymn under my breath I can’t stop singing:
It’s time…to do a slow fade…
to sharpen up the garden spade…
and find somebody new with memories to trade.
[Perhaps] it’s time to do a slow fade.
Looking at an open sky while waiting for the storm;
I know it’s far away, but still it’s coming
and what it brings on darkened wings, though not for man to know,
becomes a tune the whole world’s humming.
It’s time…to do a slow fade…
to turn the dial and give up on the hit parade…
to see that all our friendly debts are fully paid.
It’s time…to do a slow fade.
C#m at 54 bpm. The rough mix and MIDI file include very rudimentary piano chords in case helpful.
—————
Slow Fade
Lyrics (cc)BY D A Ayer 2019-03-08
Standing on a rippling floe drifting on the summer sea
my feet are cold even though my eyes are stung with sweat.
Horizon’s getting higher though it’s farther off each day
and pretty soon the sun won’t even set.
It’s time…to do a slow fade…
time to slip into the cool shade…
to close my eyes and let forgotten dreams invade.
It’s time…to do a slow fade.
Walking through an empty house once the dinner guests have gone
my heart is warm but my ears still ringing
from conversation as predictable as death.
This hymn under my breath I can’t stop singing:
It’s time…to do a slow fade…
to sharpen up the garden spade…
and find somebody new with memories to trade.
[Perhaps] it’s time to do a slow fade.
Looking at an open sky while waiting for the storm;
I know it’s far away, but still it’s coming
and what it brings on darkened wings, though not for man to know,
becomes a tune the whole world’s humming.
It’s time…to do a slow fade…
to turn the dial and give up on the hit parade…
to see that all our friendly debts are fully paid.
It’s time…to do a slow fade.