Rough, rough river gold (or so I’ve been told) is what you had in that purse until the weight started to hurt
And oh sweet one, of some dark blight, tell me what did you see in that night?
You know I wish I was there but I was cutting my hair and sweeping my floors is such a bore when I could have been with you.
I know that we could pretend that we were in some old dream and it might not be the right thing but you know how it could seem.
You’re a breeze in a wind. You’re my favorite friend.
I don’t have to keep my eyes skinned
I can’t wait to look back at the end
I’m glad you never fail, you show me colors I can’t see,
Out of us who’s the coat of mail?
I think it might be more you than me.
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