This is a song, that I wrote when I was young,
|
And I call it, the broken hearted blues,
|
The air on that night, was tempered like a knife,
|
And the people wore the face masks of a clown,
|
Don he was long, mis-shapen and forlorn,
|
And his woman ran away without a smile.
|
|
Days of the earth, are unbroken changeless turf,
|
But the faces of the men are something else.
|
In the wind, as a boy, was a spacious sexual toy,
|
But baby, now he's a toothless baggy man,
|
When the hills of the sun, make you feel that you are young,
|
|
Get good now, and face your face into the wind.
|
This is a song, that I wrote when I was young,
|
And I called it the broken hearted blues.
|
|
-----------------
|
Broken-Hearted Blues
|
| T.Rex |
