The Byrds, “Turn, turn, turn (To everything there is a season)”

To everything (turn, turn, turn) / There is a season (turn, turn, turn) / And a time to every purpose, under heaven

A time to be born, a time to die / A time to plant, a time to reap / A time to kill, a time to heal / A time to laugh, a time to weep

To everything (turn, turn, turn) / There is a season (turn, turn, turn) / And a time to every purpose, under heaven

A time to build up, a time to break down / A time to dance, a time to mourn / A time to cast away stones, a time to gather stones together

To everything (turn, turn, turn) / There is a season (turn, turn, turn) / And a time to every purpose, under heaven

A time of love, a time of hate / A time of war, a time of peace / A time you may embrace, a time to refrain from embracing

To everything (turn, turn, turn) / There is a season (turn, turn, turn) / And a time to every purpose, under heaven

A time to gain, a time to lose / A time to rend, a time to sew / A time for love, a time for hate / A time for peace, I swear it’s not too late

By Book of Ecclesiastes – Pete Seeger © Columbia Records, 1962

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