|
|
My Lady Morning descends upon the hill
Cold is the air with a nightly chill
Commoners begin to flow into the street
Daily life begins like a seed
I look down the alley with squinting eye
I ask my soul, why do I miss her, why
I saw what they brought to this busiest place of all
Fruit, weed, seed and vegetable
The lyre is playing a haunting weep
Missing your touch, oh so deep
I cast my eyes across the thoroughfare
I can't see, but wish you would be there
The sun sets down there over the hill
The wee folks leave and the air gets chill
My Lady, I did not find you today
My Lady, I could not say
My Lady, the words weren't said
My horse is tired and I have to go to bed
Tomorrow perhaps, when the sun will shine
Mom will let me go and perhaps My Lady you'll be mine
I put on my costume of glitter and sword
The haunting lyre will play a new accord
I saddle my wooden horse and ride up the alley
Up to the hill beyond the valley
Perhaps tomorrow, My Lady, you're mine
Be gentle with me, for I'm only nine.
