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