Cold dawn won`t comfort you
Cold coffee won`t see you through
Cold sheets won`t heal your heart
Your frozen fingers or your name so tarred
I know so rarely that things come your way
Your ways are tender and your paths are straight
Your mind`s not lived in the way ours are set
Your heart is open to love and regret
Rings and letters they pass you by
You wish them well and seldom cry
These sailors come and spend time ashore
Their thoughts are hoarded as yours have been stored
Outside in the morning air
I hear the soundtrack of the Blues harp player
bd = bend down bu = bend up
I know so rarely that things come your way