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My telephone rang, I was too late |
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Why did I stop to hesitate on my way home? |
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Take my hands, let me confess |
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'Bout loving and hating and all of the rest |
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And ideas I've roamed |
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Then I saw a brilliant sign |
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And let it slip behind |
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And search again |
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And find I'm blind |
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My thoughts they make a tender smile |
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My hands they move and in a while |
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I've got what I want |
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That tenderness that you insist you feel |
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Ain't worth a damn 'cause it ain't real |
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Lord, it sure does haunt |
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Then you saw a brilliant sign |
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And let it slip behind |
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And search again |
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And find you're blind |
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See me in a lonely Sunday |
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If you've got the time |
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And don't surprise me |
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Or you'll find that I'm completely blind |
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Now I'm so sick of what's being said |
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My thoughts they burn inside my head |
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There's not much untouched |
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All of my children begin to cry |
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They clutch at me demanding why |
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Tell 'em 'bout loving and such |
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Then they saw a brilliant sign |
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And let it slip behind |
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And search again |
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And find they're blind |
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See them in a lonely Sunday |
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If you've got the time |
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And don't surprise them or you'll find |
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That they're completely blind |
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That they're completely blind |
