Tender words without sound reach for memory.
In this place where your voice was found stands a giving tree.
Acorns thrown at hearts of stone score the fragile shell.
As these patient seeds are sown, we restore the well.
Amy, I can see your pain.
Amy, how do I explain?
Amy, let your tears fall down like rain.
Sky azure over Dusty fields, the distant sunset grows.
Practiced as a pantomime, this recitation owned.
Smile grinding to a halt, lips to match the heart.
This great weight is coming down, my world is torn apart.
Kindred glances, kindness grown, encircles quiet clay.
All I yearn is to see his face and then to hide away.
Rivers run, mountains talk, until the tears flow dry.
Excuses now they're wearing thin, it's time I said goodbye.
Words and music by John DuRant Jr
Copyright © 2018 Old World Troubadour Productions - All Rights Reserved.