|
If today was not an endless highway, |
|
If tonight was not a crooked trail, |
|
If tomorrow wasn't such a long time, |
|
Then lonesome would mean nothing to you at all. |
|
Yes, and only if my own true love was waitin', |
|
Yes, and if I could hear her heart a-softly poundin', |
|
Only if she was lyin' by me, |
|
Then I'd lie in my bed once again. |
|
I can't see my reflection in the waters, |
|
I can't speak the sounds that show no pain, |
|
I can't hear the echo of my footsteps, |
|
Or can't remember the sound of my own name. |
|
Yes, and only if my own true love was waitin', |
|
Yes, and if I could hear her heart a-softly poundin', |
|
Only if she was lyin' by me, |
|
Then I'd lie in my bed once again. |
|
There's beauty in the silver, singin' river, |
|
There's beauty in the sunrise in the sky, |
|
But none of these and nothing else can touch the beauty |
|
That I remember in my true love's eyes. |
|
Yes, and only if my own true love was waitin', |
|
Yes, and if I could hear her heart a-softly poundin', |
|
Only if she was lyin' by me, |
|
Then I'd lie in my bed once again. |
