|
As processions fade, |
|
New hearts doubt. |
|
But you are |
|
Golden and no one questions it. |
|
But who you fake and how you sound, |
|
Asks the best of men |
|
To share your sentiment |
|
I want to be the one to help you find those years |
|
That you've been talking about. |
|
Dreaming of the |
|
SouthAnd all those lost goodbyes, |
|
And all those lonely tears, |
|
You never got to cry, |
|
It never works out right, |
|
Unless you're one to follow. |
|
Where the silence takes too long, |
|
When the night falls--when the night falls oh so slow, |
|
And caution isn't ours. |
|
When the night falls--when the night falls oh so low, |
|
We may lose control. |
|
I want to be the one to help you find those years |
|
That you've been talking about. |
|
Dreaming of the |
|
SouthAnd all those lonely nights, |
|
And all those lost goodbyes, |
|
You never got to sigh. |
|
I want to be the one to help you find those dreams |
|
Because you've been hanging around, |
|
Talking about the |
|
South,And all those balmy nights, |
|
And all those lonely songs, |
|
You never got to write. |
|
And I'll hold your hand as |
|
I walk you through that door, |
|
I'll hold your hand as you held my hand as |
|
I walk you through the door |
