|
When I pick up my guitar |
|
This is the song that always comes |
|
Don't know what I'm singing 'bout and |
|
Don't know what for |
|
I think about you |
|
And I think about Rosebud |
|
Wish there was a song to sing |
|
To bring you back |
|
But you can't get here from nowhere I guess |
|
Rosebud's shipwrecked up on the Ohio |
|
Behind a wall of glass |
|
Telling me to take care of myself |
|
And my friends |
|
You sing to a field of trees |
|
And roses singing those melodies |
|
Simple and easy where everything moves |
|
Underneath you |
|
And Rosebud too |
|
I wish there was a song to sing |
|
To get you back |
|
But you can't get here from nowhere I guess |
|
Rosebud's shipwrecked up on the Ohio |
|
Behind a wall of glass |
|
Telling me to take it easy |
|
But I took a photograph |
|
And she's just a wooden machine |
|
But you and Rosebud, you're still singing to me |