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Take these shoes so I can fly away; |
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They were fine when I was running. |
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Hear my voice as it fades away, |
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Now listen 'cause it's coming, coming. |
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Through the reigns and legs and air, |
|
A messenger is coming. |
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March is stormy and April's gay, |
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May is warm and June is sunny. |
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We've both got our bills to pay, |
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But who will pay for all this money? |
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Through this hazy summer day |
|
A messenger is coming. |
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Give me his word that he's far away |
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And give my love to old remembrance. |
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I'll sell my father's farm away- |
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What would I do with all that rock and clay? |
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I'll buy a boat that I'll sail to mercy |
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And a knife to kill the messenger. |
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Through this hazy summer day |
|
A messenger is coming. |
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Hear my voice as it fades, |
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Away. |
