Rows of white doves on the wall | |
As the breeze is blowing through the house | |
It turned southeast toward the 3rd floor window | |
And it set them free from the single path | |
Those years of watching the kids grow up | |
As the curtains dance and they look on | |
The hour of the wolf had passed | |
And the wind had called from the windmill grass | |
All those eyes have gone away | |
All those I've turned away from from | |
All those lies they fade away | |
All that I've walked away from |