Lyrics night at the Mansfield house.
May. 7th, 2005 09:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Kathy's Song
Simon & Garfunkel
I hear the drizzle of the rain
Like a memory it falls
Soft and warm continuing
Tapping on my roof and walls
And from the shelter of my mind
Through the window of my eyes
I gaze beyond the rain-drenched streets
To England where my heart lies
My mind's distracted and diffused
My thoughts are many miles away
They lie with you when you're alseep
And kiss you when you start your day
And a song I was writing is left undone
I don't know why I spend my time
Writing songs I can't believe
With words that tear and strain to rhyme
And so you see I have come to doubt
All that I once held as true
I stand alone without beliefs
The only truth I know is you
And as I watch the drops of rain
Weave their weary paths and die
I know that I am like the rain
There but for the grace of you go I
Canadian Rose
Blues Traveller
Autumn air it carries me there
Less than an hour to go
Six hundred miles an hour
And still it feels so slow
I'm trying to get back to Burlington
To a square in the center of town
To a spot on a wooden table
Where her feet didn't reach the ground
And shen she kisses me it tasted like cinnamon
And her skin smells of cider and rose
And when she looked at me we both got quiet
And my heart beats so hard we were in so close
Once for such a beautiful while that still makes me smile
And she called me her ugly American
And I would call her my Canadian flower
And I don't think that we'll ever get there again
We had such power
And she would call me her ugly American
And I'll remember my Canadian rose
Especially when the fall comes to Burlington
We were in so close
I finally made it this town looks rearranged
I don't know these people anymore
But in the best ways not much else has changed
From the way it was before
And at least they still have this certain table
Where I once carved a particular name
I run my finger through the weathered carving
And I almost can feel the same
And my mouth it almost tastes just like cinnamon
As I ponder what my pilgrimage means
And I try to figure out where Vancouver is from here
And I listen to the leaves
If only for a beautiful while that still makes me smile
And she called me her ugly American
And I would call her my Canadian flower
And I don't think that we'll ever get there again
We had such power
And she would call me her ugly American
And I'll remember my Canadian rose
Especially when the fall comes to Burlington
We were in so close
And every single hope and dream I could ever conjure up
Passionately springs in me and all things are possible
Plausible and perfectly both of ours forever after and every day
At least it seemed that way
Once for such a beautiful while that still makes me smile
And she called me her ugly American
And I would call her my Canadian flower
And I don't think that we'll ever get there again
We had such power
And she would call me her ugly American
And I'll remember my Canadian rose
Especially when the fall comes to Burlington
We were in so close...
There's more in here, but I'm a bit scattered at the moment...
~nosebeeps all round~
~*J.