Can I will the scratches
Out of this record,
Or the worried furrows
Out of your brow?
Should I stand in bare feet
On your steps,
And follow the patches of sun
On the greying wood?
Will I smile to remember
In the smoky blackness,
Or is that smile lost, too
In the haze hanging over?
Out of this record,
Or the worried furrows
Out of your brow?
Should I stand in bare feet
On your steps,
And follow the patches of sun
On the greying wood?
Will I smile to remember
In the smoky blackness,
Or is that smile lost, too
In the haze hanging over?