By Arlo Guthrie
|
|
Lonely sunshine, days come easy,
|
Spend my time alone at rest,
|
And if I were the last to leave here,
|
Now would these roads be any less?
|
|
Oh, I'm the last to leave.
|
Now would these ribbon highway roads
|
Be less wonderful to me?
|
Why must I always be so slow?
|
|
Many friends come and go,
|
You know there's a lot of feelings that I've left behind,
|
And it's a lonely world, I know,
|
When your friends are hard to find.
|
|
But take the time, my memory fails,
|
And soak my eyes in the morning rain,
|
Like a sailor, sailing over Jordan,
|
On the road back home again.
|
|
Oh, I'm the last to leave.
|
Would these ribbon highway roads
|
Be less wonderful to me?
|
Why must I always be so slow?
|
|
-----------------
|
Last to Leave
|
Arlo Guthrie |