Can you not see the lines in my face Can you not hear the weary in my voice Like dying horns of the marching band Like the rivers that cut deep though the cliffs in the west Do you remember the day the mud stained your dress And we watched the sun chase all the stars away My hands were still and your face was cold We both rue the words we said that day Like dogs we'll run through fields green and gold Oh and down to the river just to see what Peter holds By god I couldn't wish for a better price to pay Then to see you once again in your mud stained dress Paul couldn't save my memories tonight My last thought of you and your blood shot eyes
Writer(s): Elias Workman Lyrics powered by