A baby with a baby just barely seventeen
|
My mother mourned her innocence
|
While she bounced me on her knee
|
A daddy on the road added to her tears and trials
|
Like silver rain they fell upon this melancholy child
|
|
The sounds of my childhood still linger in my song
|
My mother's lullaby that train that ran behind our home
|
A whippoorwill on a window sill - It should have made me smile
|
But everything sounds lonesome to a melancholy child
|
|
Now a restless blood runs in our family
|
I thought I could out run the emptiness inside of me
|
So I went a little crazy, went a little wild
|
Trying to outdistance my own melancholy child
|
|
I met a kind and gentleman who thinks the world of me
|
And when he looks my way it is a woman that he sees
|
But when I can't explain to him the tears that fill my eyes
|
He takes me in his arms and rocks his melancholy child
|
|
You take a black Irish temper and some solemn Cherokee
|
A Southern sense of humour and you got someone like me
|
There are thorns on every rose to this I'm reconciled
|
They're just a little sharper to a melancholy child
|
|
And in my own babe's eyes I see the signs of melancholy child
|
|
Heaven help us all, another melancholy child
|
|
-----------------
|
Melancholy Child
|
| Pam Tillis |
