|
Gone, gone, gone, |
|
Betcha didn't know I'd be gone, |
|
For so long, |
|
Betcha didn't know I'd done wrong, |
|
And all the cherry blossoms were swirling round your head, |
|
And soon your pretty blue eyes were red. |
|
Burn, oh burn, |
|
You watched your little playhouse burn, |
|
Oh, how you learn, |
|
When the wheel of your misfortune turns, |
|
And all the smoke and ashes were swirling round your head, |
|
And soon your pretty blue eyes were red. |
|
Oh, so red, |
|
And you think you must be dying from all those tears you bled, |
|
Oh, so red. |
|
Cold, so cold, |
|
So soon the summer wind turned so cold, |
|
Now you know, |
|
That everything that shines sure ain't gold, |
|
And all the autumn leaves were swirling round your head, |
|
Blown like goodbye kisses so red. |
|
Oh, so red, |
|
And you think you must be dying from all those tears you bled, |
|
And you think you must be dying for your heart's so sore and red, |
|
And I think you must be dying to see my cold, cold blood run red. |
|
Oh, so red. |
