Old Believers (The)
Waltz #3
There are mothsFluttering round by the windowWe won't let them inNo we won'tYou've got soft skin in the morningI'll hold youYes I willI willThen we'll walk down that dirt roadWith the thirsty trees gone byAnd we'll be wearing our work clothesJeans all faded and tiredAnd we'll come home at nightWe can hear trains whistle by on this cool breezeAnd candle lit nightRumbling soft and far awayThere's a manPlaying the blues on his battered guitarBy the tables and chairsWe'll take a seatAnd we'll breathe in the fresh airWith new eyes and hope in our heartsAnd we'll call on the telephone and tell how happy we areAnd we'll come home at night
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