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(Gram Parsons) |
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Brass buttons, green silks and silver shoes |
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Warm evenings, pale mornings, bottle of blues |
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And the tiny golden pins that she wore up in her hair |
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Brass buttons, green silks and silver shoes |
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My mind was young until she grew |
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My secret thoughts known only by the few |
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It was a dream much to real to be leaned against too long |
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All the time I think she knew |
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Her words still dance inside my head |
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Her comb still lies beside my bed |
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And the sun comes up without her |
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It just doesn't know she's gone |
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But I remember everything she said |
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I remember every word she said |
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All the time I think she knew |
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Brass buttons, green silks and silver shoes |
