The Author

Now, I'm gonna tell you

This one born upon a kitchen table

When she passed away

Sleeping 'cross the shoulder of my brother

Can I make you see

The simple beauty in the knowing of her?

If there's good in me

Chant it out to her, she is the author

Sing it fully in the morning

Chant it wildly in the day

Pray to lovers in the evening

Cry it softly in the night

Time's your enemy

Every gift you see will be taken for sure

So, I figure while you live

Kiss the ones that love you

For the song you sing