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Well, they've torn up the streets and |
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Burned off the fields, |
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And turned all the dogs to the woods; |
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They took up the cross |
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But they lost the third reel |
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And the picture was just getting good; |
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Evening is crawling, |
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Summer is Lost |
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- They're dragging the pond for it now, |
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They've painted the windows all shut |
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And the frost has |
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Warmed everything up somehow |
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And you can ask me for nothing at all |
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And I'll always be what you please, |
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You can never leave nothing behind you |
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And I always will love Louise |
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You've seen this before |
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And to hear you tell, |
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It's not worth the tears or the rain; |
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There's nothing worth keeping |
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But nothing you'd sell, |
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Though you'd trade it all for a seat on the train; |
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When your breath can be seen |
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It hangs at your knees |
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But raises itself like a crow, |
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You can jump for your life |
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From your place in the trees |
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But you'd do well to just watch it go |
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And you can ask me for nothing at all |
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And I'll always be what you please, |
|
You can never leave nothing behind you |
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And I always will love Louise |
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You can send me alone |
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To the shed after dark, |
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Lay me down in my Easter Clothes, |
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Or send them along |
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To my folks with your prayers |
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But save me at least one of those; |
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You can make me your only one |
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Or leave me today |
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And send no more mail than you do, |
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I may never be able |
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To reach you this way |
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But I always will reach out to you |
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And you can ask me for nothing at all |
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And I'll always be what you please, |
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You can never leave nothing behind you |
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And I always will love Louise |
|
I always will love Louise |
