Oh the rush hour is over
|
And the night has been trying
|
To drive us and chase us away
|
But we`re lovely and drunk now
|
And our laugh dosen`t
|
Rattle or fray
|
And the friday folk
|
Are coming round
|
Let the wildness
|
Have its way
|
|
Oh sweet autumn
|
With your dark surprise
|
And your short days all smudged with gold
|
You covered up
|
Worn paths for us
|
So no story could be told
|
And sent the dark
|
Come tumbling down
|
So the wildness
|
Can`t grow cold
|
So the morning
|
Would never know
|
|
Of the wildness
|
Of the wildness
|
Driving me on again
|
Of the wildness
|
Of the wildness
|
Shaking me
|
Letting me know
|
|
There were two of us driving
|
We were six miles out
|
And a
|
Hundred miles to go
|
Still the morning lies waiting
|
And the light falls
|
On your travel map
|
I`m still here hoping
|
For the wildness
|
To relax
|
For the wildness
|
To go back
|
|
CHORUS
|
|
|
I went up to your house one night
|
I took 59 in the rain
|
And I saw your tiny face shine
|
So calm and so bright
|
And so gay
|
I called in
|
I called out
|
I couldn`t see any other name
|
I woke
|
One morning
|
With the wildness
|
Once again
|
With the wildness
|
Shining in
|
|
|
CHORUS
|
|
-----------------
|
The Wildness
|
| Deacon Blue and Ricky Ross |
