|
a coffee stain |
|
dried and faint |
|
covers up the day |
|
i want a picture that i found |
|
in the attic on the ground |
|
of your old place |
|
it's black and white |
|
and in this light |
|
it's hard to tell |
|
if the glasses on your face |
|
were the same ones |
|
on the day they buried you |
|
oh oh oh oh |
|
i long to see your face |
|
oh oh oh oh oh |
|
a picture in it's place |
|
it's been a year |
|
and now i fear the fade is on |
|
it's the slowly turning down |
|
of the well equated sound |
|
of your old voice |
|
the way you laugh |
|
when others laugh |
|
was welcoming |
|
it's the way i see you look |
|
at whoever was the cure |
|
in photographs (?) |
|
oh oh oh oh |
|
i long to see your face |
|
oh oh oh oh oh |
|
a picture in its place |
|
oh oh oh oh |
|
i long to see your face |
|
oh oh oh oh oh |
