And her eyes hurt the way they do
|
Almost like they'd seen,
|
Almost like they knew
|
|
And her words, soft as they could be
|
Tied me to her soul and wouldn't set me free
|
|
And the night that held us in its arms
|
It held us once again,
|
But even then I knew this time
|
That I would decline
|
Sweet Rosemary's Wine
|
|
Lately I, seem to be inclined
|
More to being cold, less to being kind
|
And I suppose that I've been less than true
|
Being what I am, what was I to do
|
|
So I drink
|
The sweetness of her soul
|
And drink it once again
|
But even then I guess I'd known
|
That I would decline
|
Sweet Rosemary's wine
|
|
-----------------
|
Rosemary's Wine
|
| Neil Diamond |
