Sons of the thief, sons of the saint. Who is the child with no complaint. Sons of the great or sons unknown. All were children like your own. The same sweet smiles, the same sad tears. The cries
I wander hopelessly, trying to think about me. But I'm trying to forget the things that dwell on me. Signal a horse to the wind and sit in the comfortable tree. Mesmerized by the beautiful sky, sit
City headache subside your deary talk. Send a doctor to my house. Got me a fever coming 'round the bend. A heavy bus load of danger Straight talking, you're sending me to bed. 'Cause I ain't walki
See the sign up ahead, it calls out your name. It's a meaningful sign but it makes no sense. They saw you pass on through with only one shoe. And a mystified mind with an angel for a guide There's
Oh I can see them now. Clutching a handkerchief. And blowing me a kiss. Discreetly asking how. How came he died so young. Or was he very old. Is the body still warm. Or is it already cold. All