Sunday morning, my Rebecca sleeping in with me again There's a kid outside the church kicking a can When the cedar branches twist she turns her collar to the wind The weather can close the world within its hand
And my mother says Rebecca is as stubborn as they come They both call to me with words I never knew There's a bug inside the thimble, there's a band-aid on her thumb And a pony in the river turning blue They say," Time may give you more than your poor bones could ever take" My Rebecca says she never wants a boy To be barefoot on the driveway as they wave and ride away Then to run inside and curse the open door
I once gave to my Rebecca a belated promise ring And she sold it to the waitress on a train I may find her by the phone but with a fashion magazine She may kiss me when her girlfriends leave again They say, "Time may give you more than your poor bones could ever take" I think I could never love another girl To be free atop a tree stump and to look the other way While she shines my mother's imitation pearls
Sunday evening my Rebecca's lost a book she never read And the moon already fell into the sea Saw the statues of our fathers in the courthouse flower bed Now they blend with all the lightning-tattered trees They say, "Time may give you more than your poor bones could ever take" My Rebecca said she knew I'd want a boy A dollar for my boardwalk red balloon, to float away She would earn a pocketful to buy me moreTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
