Mornings Like These
Mornings like these,
I walk the streets of my little town,
remembering who lived over there
and who played where,
wondering who does now,
with false tears pulled from my eyes
by the chilly wind.
The real tears, the ones for souls,
are in my heart.
Oh earth, earth!
Hear the word of the Lord!
I walk the streets of my little town,
remembering who lived over there
and who played where,
wondering who does now,
with false tears pulled from my eyes
by the chilly wind.
The real tears, the ones for souls,
are in my heart.
Oh earth, earth!
Hear the word of the Lord!