(S. Silverstein)
Rings of grass, crowns of flowers
Gone, gone, gone, gone
Furs that are woven of whispering hours
Gone, gone, gone, gone
She's gone away where the rings are real
And the furs have a warmth that a woman can feel
And 'round and 'round, around goes the wheel
And she's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone, gone
Rings of grass, crowns of flowers
Gone, gone, gone, gone
Castles of sand with seashell towers
Gone, gone, gone, gone
She's gone away where the dreams are small
But the castles are rock and they never fall
And left me here to live among all
That is gone, gone, gone, gone, gone, gone
Rings of grass why do they die away?
Gone, gone, gone, gone
Whispering hours where do they fly away?
Gone, gone, gone, gone
And where's the wisdom to understand
That years will crumble all castles of sand
And the flowers and grass turn brown in our hands
When it's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone, gone, gone, gone
(c) 1984 Tro Essex Music Ltd.
Artist: Howard Tate
Artist: Bombshell Rocks
Artist: Chris Rea