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It was the dirty end of winter |
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Along the loom of the land |
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When I walked with sweet Henry |
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Hand upon hand |
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And the wind, it bit bitter |
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For a girl of no means |
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With no shoes on her feet |
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And a knife in her jeans |
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Along the loom of the land |
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The mission bells peeled |
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From the tower at Saint Mary's |
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Down to Reprobate Fields |
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And I saw the world |
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All blessed and bright |
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And Henry breathed softly |
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In the majestic night |
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Oh baby, please don't cry |
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And try to keep |
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Your little head upon my shoulder |
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Now we'll go to sleep |
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The elms and the poplars |
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Were turning their backs |
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Past the rumbling station |
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We followed their tracks |
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My hands, they burned |
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In the folds of his coat |
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Breathing milky white air |
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From deep in his throat |
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Oh baby, please don't cry |
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And try to keep |
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Your little head upon my shoulder |
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Now we'll go to sleep |
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I told him, the moon |
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Was a magical thing |
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And that it shone gold in winter |
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And silver in spring |
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And we walked and we walked |
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Across the endless sands |
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Just me and my Henry |
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Along the loom of the land |
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Oh baby, please don't cry |
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And try to keep |
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Oh baby, please don't cry |
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And try to keep |
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Your little head upon my shoulder |
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Now we'll go to sleep |
