It's all coming back to me now.
|
But try as I have to keep,
|
The taste of you off of my tongue;
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Your face from my fitful sleep.
|
|
An' I wait and hope against hope like before.
|
An' I wait an' hope that I won't anymore.
|
|
An' this won't stop till I do.
|
Until I learn to kill the thought,
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Of everything I could have said:
|
Of everything I wished I'd not.
|
|
An' I wait, hope against hope like before.
|
An' I wait, hope that I won't anymore.
|
|
Show rises up from the street,
|
An' a crowd rises up to it's feet.
|
I followed blind after you:
|
I might know better if I'd ever wanted to.
|
|
Instrumental Break.
|
|
The painting here is still not dry,
|
An' I can smell it from the door.
|
It covers every mark you made:
|
The countin' days are keepin' score.
|
|
An' I wait, hope against hope like before.
|
An' I wait, an' hope that I won't anymore.
|
|
An' I wait, hope against hope like before.
|
An' I wait, an' hope that I won't anymore.
|
|
-----------------
|
Hope Against Hope
|
| Rosanne Cash |
