第四夜：Felix Holt, the Radical

(Verse 1)
Oh, young souls, let me share with you
The memories of a journey, so grand and true
In mid-spring or autumn, on a stage-coach ride
Through the countryside, we'd glide with pride

(Chorus)
Posterity may fly, like a bullet through the air
But the slow old-fashioned way, we'll always hold dear
From Winchester to Newcastle, we'd roam
Gathering stories, making memories our own

(Verse 2)
Outside passengers, seated on the box
From dawn 'til dusk, we'd witness life's paradox
English towns and fields, unfolding before our eyes
A tapestry of tales, beneath the open skies

(Chorus)
Posterity may fly, like a bullet through the air
But the slow old-fashioned way, we'll always hold dear
From Winchester to Newcastle, we'd roam
Gathering stories, making memories our own

(Bridge)
Oh, the sights we'd see, the people we'd meet
Every moment, a chapter, so bittersweet
Through laughter and tears, we'd find our way
On this modern Odyssey, we'd seize the day

(Chorus)
Posterity may fly, like a bullet through the air
But the slow old-fashioned way, we'll always hold dear
From Winchester to Newcastle, we'd roam
Gathering stories, making memories our own

(Outro)
So let us cherish these tales of old
The journeys we took, the stories untold
For in the slow and steady, we find our grace
On the outside of a stage-coach, we'll forever embrace