Now is the end of the gentile Pluck aeolian harp, my child Beyond the lust of this moment Thin as a pine slat It does no good to call you mine You're
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone It's not warm when she's away Ain't no sunshine when she's gone She's gone much too long Anytime she goes away Ain'
There is no harm In you alone In you alone, in you alone There is no harm In you alone With your sound picture frame Your burlap silken scarf Right hand
and speak to me Speak to me It's a dry leaf that shivers on the branch What matter if the wind cast it down With a ruthless hand? 'Cause we remember
It's always cold when she's away Ain't no sunshine when she's gone And she's always gone too long Any time, she goes away Ain't no sunshine when she'
grace And she says that none would have her As a boy I too drew near to the love of dust Tough skin, blue light cowboy, idle hands they rust Your fire
one eye Hide me in your hand with the mother of my children Where the land sinks deep in its color Bless the ground where we kneel, safe in your woven
wounded That you may know You may know one another She looks for me in picture Oh my brother?s keeper In picture worn smooth From hand to hand A quiet
Do tell, how is the little pilgrim's progress Does he endeavor to persevere Close mantled to knives and kisses Just like when you were here What little
The night holds Holds a candle to you I see you are a hummingbird Living in the shadows of law Cleave her to vivid of dreams Picture before you The living
hand upon me I took my shelter 'neath the familiar tree I'm livin' where I come from I am, I am a father's son See the good hand, see what the good hand
of the horsetail He wishes no height No height in your mind To climb the steep hill none the can find If you think you can see it in your hand Then
What are you about? Say something secret in an old order hush Trouble and suffering in a lovely rhythm A homespun clapboard, black strap thrush Devoted
These thoughts of you are the dreams that I have missed The touch of you, I hear, I hear Oh yes, and so are you in an always way Bound Woven Hand to
backbone You offer up not your reason alone Deep asleep as wolves Who rise to worship their dreams Under the mountain Thin as thieves Armed to the teeth We have the same hands
do tell how is the little pilgrims progress does he endeavour to perservere close mantled to knives and kisses just like when you were here what little
matter by your holy candle The clank of your second hand, the stare of your glass eye Have I no wisdom? That is not wise In that way we laid the rail, a woven
spirit is willing, the flesh is weak, so shake it How long have you been standing there Only here a lonely man? I do, I get behind myself Grieved in my spirit but my hands
