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Further from my widowed home take the road that sets it to the sun, |
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Waiting for my skin and bone to return and see what I've become, |
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Summer has not yet been here though my days are long, |
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Take me back to when the night was young and another song was sung. |
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What of all those pretty tales the ones that took me to this door, |
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Is it comfort in the salvers way is it comfort upon this wooden floor, |
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Tell you is it a failure to forget the ones that self it, |
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And I tried to remember but my mind is no longer clean. |
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Oooh Ooooh Oooh, You recognise me, |
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Oooh Ooooh Oooh, I follow from, far from the trees, |
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Oooh Ooooh Oooh, The woods came out, on to my knees, |
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Oooh Ooooh Oooh, I twisted round, |
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I made no sound... No sound. |
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I'll wonder till my frittle bones has come and pulled me to the stone, |
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Further from the towns you've known I'll remain from where I have begun, |
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Summer before I start I was kicking home stones as a child, |
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In the meadow when the storm came through and I followed straight back to you. |
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Oooh Ooooh Oooh, You recognise me, |
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Oooh Ooooh Oooh, I follow from, far from the trees, |
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Oooh Ooooh Oooh, The woods came out, on to my knees, |
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Oooh Ooooh Oooh, I twisted round, |
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I made no sound... No sound. |
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Would you ever doubt my love when my day is done, |
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I'll lay down my body within this earth I've won, |
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Would you try to follow the roads I had to walk, |
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There's a whisper in the willow for they all hear me talk. |
