i sat there some weeks before
you walked up those steps and through the door
and it's a hell of a thing
to be considering

if i had my bendin' bow
my string and my arrow
there wouldn't be a thing
between you and my meaning

i'll remember your quiet way
revisit it one quiet day
the tug and pull of you
just might see me through

lay your hand in mine
remember what you promised we would find
i'll take you to where the green grasses grow
to a place where that we could go

that's where we belong
where the trails meet the lines
out among the gusty winds
and the ponderosa pines

in the hallowed halls and circling hills
a man will do what he wills
scratch those words right off your slate
you've had the time to recuperate

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