Trina wears her wampum beads. She fills her drawing book with line. Sewing lace on widows' weeds. And filigree on leaf and vine. Vine and leaf are filigree.
No tongue in the bell. And the fishwives yell. But they might as well be mute. So you get to keep the pictures. That don't seem like much. Cold white keys under your fingers.
I heard it in the wind last night. It sounded like applause. Did you get a round resounding for you. Way up here. Seems like many dim years ago. Since I heard that face to face.
Lady called the blue boy, love. She took him home. Made himself an idol, yes. So he turned to stone. Like a pilgrim she traveled. To place her flowers.
They paved paradise. And put up a parking lot. With a pink hotel, a boutique. And a swinging hot spot. Don't it always seem to go. That you don't know what you've got.
Just before our love got lost you said,. I am as constant as a northern star and I said,. Constantly in the darkness,. Where's that at?. If you want me I'll be in the bar.
Well I came upon a child of God. He was walkin' along the road and I asked him. "Tell me where are you going?". . This he told me, said, "I'm going on down to Yasgur's farm.
They paved paradise. And put up a parking lot. With a pink hotel, a boutique. And a swinging hot spot. . Don't it always seem to go. That you don't know what you've got til its gone.