Most of the better bred
|
Woollen toys have gone to bed
|
And the teddy bear is a-sleeping in the cupboard
|
And the wooden soldiers all
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And the rubber bouncing ball
|
Are list'ning to the tales of mother Hubbard
|
|
But the fairy lights are dark
|
On the Christmas tree as restlessly
|
I stand here forgotten and alone
|
I've been too long on the floor,
|
I can't stay here any more
|
So Jenny won't you please take me home.
|
|
Oh the statues that I see
|
Are made out of blackest ivory
|
But I pass them by never guessing of their meaning
|
And a million voices cry
|
As I walk across the sky
|
Though it's restless here, why it's only in-betweening
|
|
For the journey that I'm on
|
Is incomplete so to my feet
|
I must rise now and travel on alone
|
Ah, but if you've got some time to spend
|
In between now and the end
|
Oh Jenny won't you please take me home.
|
|
Now almost every word that I've said that you have heard
|
Hides another thought left unspoken
|
And if I may not reach it through the gutter of my speech
|
Then it best be left unsaid than lie unbroken
|
And if you wish to see, then from time to time
|
Look in my eyes
|
Oh the gold is not far beneath the stone
|
If that will not say, it doesn't matter anyway
|
Jenny won't you please take me home.
|
|
-----------------
|
Samuel, Oh How You've Changed
|
| Al Stewart |
