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By townes van zandt |
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It's many a fine lady that's walked along beside me |
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With their flesh made of velvet and their eyes made of rain |
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Some tried to hold me to hurt me to hide me |
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And some turned away not to look back again |
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One stood among them i remember most clearly |
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Her sorrows were heavy and her laughter was slow |
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I courted her gently and i loved her most dearly |
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And i came her majestic reflections to know |
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Her words like the mountain stood lonely and lofty |
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With her face like daydream and her hair like the shore |
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Worn by a mourner as he steals away softly |
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From those that would have him mourn nothing at all |
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Endlessly sorrow rode high on the north wind |
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Slashing and slicing to take him his toll |
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And endlessly creatures of darkness were cuttin' |
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Their paths through the walls that shelter the soul |
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But no longer gypsy lie sadness unending |
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Her eyes they lay hollow and her face petrified |
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The sun will go laughin' and others condemn him |
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But who there among you could have told her good-bye |
