Songs of Woe

Like a river flowin' through a stormbeat, weathered heart
I can taste the sweetness of your hold - now it's gone
Pretty dancer swinging like a rose painted gold
Painting over the colours of my woe

Hanging on a lonely rope, hanging on a lonely rope
Swinging from a lonely cable, all alone
I've been singing all my songs of woe so long
That I've got wrong

Like a thistle growing through a cornfield's gentle heart
Like a faded seedling now blown over - dead an gone
Pretty dancer swinging like a rose painted gold
Painting over the colours of my woe

Hanging on a lonely rope, hanging on a lonely rope
Swinging from a lonely cable, all alone
I've been singing all my songs of woe so long
That I've got wrong