Wont you bury me beneath the tree. Where my family lies, where my family lies?. Let the fog lay low on the mountain high. Hear the willow cry, hear the willow cry.
Exit 65, room 232. Its nothing fancy, ain't much of a view. Its no white house with picket fences. But we close our eyes and pretend. At our home sweet holiday inn.
There are walls made of paper, and walls made of stone. and some that are made out of livin' alone. I built a wall no one could break down. locked up my heart where it couldn't be found.
Chorus. I know our days are heaven sent. Lord knows I know not where they went. shake my head and I wonder how. I'll ever get to heaven now. . 1st Verse.
There are walls made of paper, an' walls made of stone. An' some, better made, out of livin' alone. I built a wall that no-one could break down. Locked up my heart where it couldn't be found.