Who Knows Where The Time Goes ?

Across the evening sky, all the birds are leaving
But how can they know it's time for them to go?
Before the winter fire, I will still be dreaming
I have no thought of time
For who knows where the time goes?
Who knows where the time goes?

Sad, deserted shore, your fickle friends are leaving
Ah, but then you know it's time for them to go
But I will still be here, I have no thought of leaving
I do not count the time
For who knows where the time goes?
Who knows where the time goes?

And I am not alone while my love is near me
I know it will be so until it's time to go
So come the storms of winter and then the birds in spring again
I have no fear of time
For who knows how my love grows?
And who knows where the time goes?
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I'm not sure how I got to my advanced age without hearing this song (ca. 1967), but it has stuck with me since I first heard it a few days ago.

It's so beautiful it makes my teeth hurt; it brings tears to my eyes. Part of it is the incredible voice of the late Sandy Denny; part of it is Richard Thompson's lyric, languid understated filigree of guitar work embellishing that voice. Part of it is the ethereal power of the imagery. I think a large part of it is that maybe you can't really appreciate a song like this until you are middle aged, and yes, you do begin to wonder...who knows where the time goes?