Ev'rybody's waiting for the sun to shine
|
Waiting on a springtime day
|
Waiting on tomorrow to unwrap their minds
|
Waiting till the sky's not grey
|
|
Ev'rybody's sitting on a cornflake shelf
|
Wond'ring what the tea leaves say
|
I would think it's crazy, but I'm caught myself
|
Tryna light my own dark way
|
|
I'll take your hand and we'll walk back
|
Down to where the shade trees grew
|
We know something's missing
|
That got lost back there
|
Back when I could talk to you
|
|
Ev'rybody's tryna keep their heads held high
|
Standing by the old iron gate
|
List'ning to the sirens in the wind wail by
|
Wond'rin' why the postman's late
|
|
Ev'rybody's tryna make the oil burn slow
|
Sure to let the pipes drip some
|
Turnin' down the kettle till the coil don't glow
|
Sweepin' up a mealtime crumb
|
|
I'll take your hand and we'll walk back
|
Down to where the shade trees grew
|
We know something's missing
|
That got lost back there
|
Back when I could talk to you
|
|
Ev'ry body's waiting on the moon to fill
|
Even though it's hard to see
|
I can feel it tuggin' on my window sill
|
Tryna keep a spell on me
|
|
Ev'ry night the whistle of the midnight train
|
Rounds the bend at twelve-o-five
|
And I'm always won'drin'
|
If you'll hear that same
|
Sound out there on Kidwell Drive
|
|
I'll take your hand and we'll walk back
|
Down to where the shade trees grew
|
We know somethin's missing
|
That got lost back there
|
Back when I could talk to you
|
|
-----------------
|
Late Winter Song
|
| Steve Forbert |