Drink to our demolished home
|
Wher loss resides alone
|
Like a widow by the radio
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Child, childhood is a place
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Where sorrow comes of age
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A widow by the radio
|
|
Try to understand
|
I couldn't hold your hand
|
I couldn't even hold a gun
|
Surely we could find
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A reason or a sign
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That everything's not gone for good
|
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Autumn whispers through the trees
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Cheap things to her and me
|
But patience wears a uniform
|
Nature take care of your sons
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I think they have become
|
The Darlings of the universe
|
|
Try to understand
|
I couldn't hold your hand
|
I couldn't even hold a gun
|
Surely we could hide
|
A reason or a sigh
|
That everything is gone for good.
|
|
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Widows by the radio
|
| Perry Blake |
