|
When I pick up my guitar |
|
This is the song that always comes |
|
Don't know what |
|
I'm singing 'bout |
|
And don't know what for |
|
I think about you |
|
And I think about |
|
RosebudWish there was a song to sing |
|
To bring you back |
|
But you can't get here |
|
From nowhere |
|
I guessRosebud's shipwrecked |
|
Up on the |
|
OhioBehind a wall of glass |
|
Telling me to take care of myself |
|
And my friends |
|
You sing to a field of trees |
|
And roses singing those melodies |
|
Simple and easy |
|
Where everything moves |
|
Underneath you and |
|
Rosebud too |
|
I wish there was a song to sing |
|
To get you back |
|
But you can't get here |
|
From nowhere |
|
I guessRosebud's shipwrecked |
|
Up on the |
|
OhioBehind a wall of glass |
|
Telling me to take it easy |
|
But I took a photograph |
|
And she's just |
|
A wooden machine |
|
But you and |
|
RosebudYou're still singing to me |