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When I was young, my mama told me |
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She said, "Child, take your time |
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Don't fall in love too quickly |
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Before you know your mind" |
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She held me 'round the shoulders |
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In a voice so soft and kind |
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She said, "Love can make you happy |
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And love can rob you blind" |
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Here in California |
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The fruit hangs heavy on the vine |
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There's no gold, I thought I'd warn ya |
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And the hills turn brown in the summertime |
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Now I may learn to love you |
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But I can't say when |
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This morning we were strangers |
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And tonight we're only friends |
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But I'll take my time to know you |
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I'll take my time to see |
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There's nothing that I won't show you |
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If you take your time with me |
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Here in California |
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The fruit hangs heavy on the vine |
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There's no gold, I thought I'd warn ya |
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And the hills turn brown in the summertime |
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It's an old familiar story |
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An old familiar rhyme |
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To everything there is a season |
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To every purpose there's a time |
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A time to love and come together |
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A time we look longs for a name |
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A time for questions we can't answer |
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But we ask them just the same |
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Here in California |
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The fruit hangs heavy on the vine |
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There's no gold, I thought I'd warn ya |
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And the hills turn brown in the summertime |
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There's no gold, I thought I'd warn ya |
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And the hills turn brown in the summertime |
