By three a.m. all the morning birds will be crying
|
And that old highway will be sighing
|
And my dreams feel as cold as my bones on the long walk home.
|
|
And my coat is old and growin thin
|
And my feet are numb and stumbling
|
And its many the thought of a long lost friend
|
That comes to me again and again.
|
|
And I want to thank my Sarah Bell
|
Who blessed me more than words can tell and who
|
Picked me straight up out of hell
|
And I miss her real bad but I love her well.
|
|
And I remember Don Clancy as a wild young man
|
But I haven't seen hide nor hair of him since he lost his mind
|
And was born again off the coast of Oregon.
|
|
Oh where are you now, oh where are you now
|
And do you even think of me
|
I'm telling you now
|
You are the stars that I'll follow
|
Endlessly, endlessly, endlessly, oh
|
|
Well, I'm singin' this song but it won't take long.
|
On these frozen streets I'm half way home
|
And the sky above me forms a beautiful dome
|
Of blue and pink and starry gold.
|
|
Oh where are you now, oh where are you now
|
And do you even think of me
|
I'm telling you now
|
You are the stars that I'll follow
|
Endlessly, endlessly, endlessly, oh
|
|
-----------------
|
All the Morning Birds
|
| Jolie Holland |