There is a restless weight upon me, in the shape of things to come. And the wrapped up paper flowers have left my life undone. What were the words once
Waiting for the sun to set in your eyes, Thinking that kind words are just a disguise. I wonder why you think that I should say good-bye when you know
There's someone who'll hold your hand, Take you through a troubled land. It's not the promised land but the weary heart abides. Listen to the words that
You wait, but the sun has told you lies, It sits laughing in an empty sky. There's one thing that I can't do without, But I can see through those sullen
The little yellow birds, Do they cry for me, Or do they cry with happiness ? They look down on me with tiny eyes, Do they see my tears? They seem to flutter
Do you fancy me, or am I living in make believe? Am I someone just to pass your time? To pass lonely hours 'til your heart can be free, Then you'll forget
Tell me it's not so, tell me a lie, Say you won't go, say you won't say goodbye. Tell me forever and that times they don't change. Say you're not leaving
Which way can we go, only the moon casts a shadow. When we look far below the path is sharp and narrow. Your thoughts and mine, are far away from this
There goes the other side, And it goes on without us, it goes on. And soon you'll know just how I feel When you know, you'll understand. There's the way
I'm waiting, I wait, for the creaking of the gate, How long, how long must I wait. I sit, I sit, the weeds gather 'round me, The wind whips my dress so
I lost a bit more Won a little mess Said good-bye to low And hello to less I jacked up the car And shot at my guest I rolled it twice And hoped for the
I don't care what they say, I'm gonna keep it anyway. I won't let them stretch their necks, To see my little black egg with the little white specks. I
You've heard these words because they're written on my face Like they were carved in stone that time cannot erase. What secrets lie behind an awful shade
Is she lonesome now ? Is she all alone ? I wonder where that good gal's gone ? Hear the whistle blow, hear the tracks moan I hear the train coming home
Christine made a little doll and it glowed in the dark. And it cried out her name, Christine. Christine lived in a wooden house Where she made that little
There's something I must tell you, There's one thing you must know : Green is the color I remember on the hills of long ago. I was told to be watchful