There were yellow ribbons on every tree,
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and yellow orchids growing from the street.
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Postcards and letters swam to the shore,
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locket and treasures on the river floor, yeah.
|
|
We owe the streets of this small town,
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you live so quietly and us we speak so loud.
|
We owe the streets of this small town,
|
you live so quietly and us we speak so loud.
|
We speak so loud.
|
|
There were yellow ribbons on every tree,
|
and yellow orchids growing from the street.
|
Postcards and letters swam to the shore,
|
and all the birds were singing ode's, singing ode's. Oh no, oh no.
|
|
We owe the streets of this small town,
|
you live so quietly and us we speak so loud.
|
We owe the streets of this small town,
|
you live so quietly and us we speak so loud.
|
We speak so loud.
|
|
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Postcards and Letters (Pittston)
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| My American Heart |
