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One day when the weather is warm, |
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I'll wake up on a hill, |
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And hold the morning like it was a plow, |
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And cut myself a row |
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And follow it until |
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I know better by God than I know now. |
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There was no taste of spring |
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In the breath you blew away |
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And nothing of a color left in your face, |
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And no way I could keep |
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The faith you lost in me |
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And nothing that I could raise up in its place. |
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It's a truth I keep alone |
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In the guise of love and help, |
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It's an awful truth |
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A thing I've always known: |
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I gave my life to you |
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Just to save myself. |
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One day when the weather turns |
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as sweet as the sky is deep and wide |
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I'll cut myself a row |
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Like a man in his sleep |
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That will find me farther on... |
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On than all the times I've tried |
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One day when the weather is warm, |
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I'll wake up on the hill, |
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And hold the morning like it was a plow, |
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And I'll cut myself a row |
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And I'll follow it until |
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I know better by God than I know now. |
