The golden sun is ever gentle in the Valley of Making, Where it's the middle of the Autumn when it isn't high Spring, There are men of many colors and
You don't keep me company, You all turn out wrong, If you are my daughters, if you are my sons, I can only hold you inside for so long, O song, did
There's something at the bottom of the black pool, I daren't dredge it up not while the weather's still cool, It's a feathered thing, its origins are
We will adjust to this new condition of living like a man with his entrails now out him not in After certain techniques of torture accustoms himself
In the chest of a dealer hammers and smelts a foul charge, as he smoothes sour cream from his moll's pony and metes her an unholy barrage, (o the living
The body's not secure, The truth will not absorb, And this crumbling apart, Is no good for you at all.. Sound, there's order in the sound, The sound
The future takes us where it leads Our heads just go beneath the waves Time tells all and we obey But how can I be mad at you You did what you did And
Turning with the listless And staying close behind And the arms that once held you Have receded Over time And the little love I had For all my friends
You're a fool man You threw it away You kill her With your confidence In the old days The cause you embraced The simple things That people over complicate
I'm living out in the old house And fighting on the stairs And staring at the windows Breeze blowing through the years But if I don't get out of this
Well I never want to land 'Cause I'm high on you Beyond all sleight of hand And tell me if you're sure And I won't pretend to fall down anymore 'Cause
The early bird he slips away And he lives to fly another day He only serves to point the way That you should or should not return Two simple birds that
I will write you letters that Explain the way I'm thinking now I will return to you What I have taken long before I will return again When it gets dark
Santa Maria Let me off of this boat I'm sick of this ride The world is heading ever southward And I can't stay in here And you're lying awake Away
So what happens when the heart just stops Stops caring for anyone The hollow in your chest dries up And you stop believing So what happens when the
I may not hold you For as long as forever exists I may not know you For as long as the heavens permit There will be distance And we'll both have to
(Joni Mitchell) [Arrangement of the traditional "Corrina, Corrina"] I took a house by the water Took a man on a mountainside Pretty house by the water
In the country The farms and the orchards swell With oranges and peaches A little bit of truth as well In the city Politicians beat their drum