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Oh the moon hangs down
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Like some old evening gown
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Forgotten by some lovely southern maiden
|
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Oh the stars are her tears
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And the sky a skin of years
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That she has most graciously given
|
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Now who am I
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To think that she might bat an eye
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At my heart that lay so dangerously open
|
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'Neath the sweet magnolia tree
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The world's a fragrant memory
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And the lady of the night has finally spoken
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CHORUS:
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She cries, oh, you are a leaf that the wind blows
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And you drift from place to place and you never know
|
Well is it here that I will stay?
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Child, you must be on your way
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For you are now, but you know nothing of your sorrow
|
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So I hover in the breath
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Between the birthday and the death
|
And the hummingbird, he hovers o're the flower
|
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Though the end is just a guest
|
From one moment to the next
|
I keep thinking there will be a final hour
|
|
She cries, oh, you are a leaf that the wind blows
|
And you drift from place to place and you never know
|
Well is it here that I will stay?
|
Child, you must be on your way
|
For you are now, but you know nothing of tomorrow
|
|
She cries, oh, you are a leaf that the wind blows
|
And you drift from place to place and you never know
|
Well is it here that I will stay?
|
Child, you must be on your way
|
|
|
-----------------
|
The Lady Of The Night
|
| John Hiatt |
