Sherwood Album

The summer sends its love to you,
the same as every year.

Across my floor I leave a shadow twenty-five feet long.
The farther down, the less specific I become.
And so with you, the country miles overcast our love.
Oh mountain range, your hills are hard to overcome.

Oooo Oooo Oooo.

The summer sends its love to you,
the same as every year.
But this year I will send mine too,
and wish that you were here.

The central coast is not the same now
the same without you here,

And late night calls
are only daylight souvenirs.
And think of me tonight
when everyone leaves and you're alone,
Think of me tonight,
I'm counting the days until you come home.

The summer sends its love to you,
the same as every year.
But this year I will send mine too,
and wish that you were here.

The summer sends its love to you,
the same as every year.
But this year I will send mine too,
and wish that you were here.

You won't ask and I won't tell
Anything about myself to you.
Honey, I'm an open book,
A little hard to read, that may be true,
A little hard to read, that may be true..
...and am I worth your time?

I'm on the ground now, but you won't ask me how I fell tonight,
but I would tell you everything you want me to tonight.

So come on ask and I will tell
Everything about myself to you.
Honey, I'm an open book,
and you and me are long since overdue,
and you and me are long since overdue..
I think it's worth your time.

I'm on the ground now, but you won't ask me how I fell tonight,
but I would tell you everything you want me to tonight,
but please wait up for me?

This time I'll draw the line,
and you won't laugh at me,
If I see you start to leave,
please wait up for me,
please wait up for me,
please wait up for me...

I'm on the ground now,
you won't ask me how I fell tonight,
but I would tell you everything you want me to tonight..

please wait up for me..

The daylight is awful dim
with shudders pulled rim to rim;
I'm staring at written words
but their sounds will remain unheard. (Unheard)

And have I known it all along,
of this cowardice and envy?
And is it time that I move on,
breaking free from all that's empty?

It's hard now to run this race
when there is no human face
to call on in times of choice,
with no reassuring voice. (A voice)

And have I known it all along,
of this cowardice and envy?
And is it time that I move on,
breaking free from all that's empty?

I've tried to mark the plains;
I've cried and screamed your name,
but all has been in vain.
My tired self remains.

My attempts at love
are not worth speaking of.
But, my dear friend, I'll try again.

My attempts at love
are not worth speaking of.
But, my dear friend, I'll try again.

Call me out of my hovel;
I long to see the sun.
My legs try to carry me
but my heart weighs me down.

Burn this in my eyes
until I see your outline.
Carve this on my lips
until you see my blood drip.

And just that I can pen these words tonight
is proof enough for me
that there is more than meets the eye.
And this is my simple lullaby (simple lullaby)
And to try and put to rest any loneliness inside.

Call me out of my hovel;
I long to see the sun.
My legs try to carry me
but my heart weighs me down.

Burn this in my eyes (burn this in my:)
until I see your outline.
Carve this on my lips (carve this on my:)
until you see my blood drip.

And just that I can pen these words tonight
is proof enough for me
that there is more than meets the eye.
And this is my simple lullaby (simple lullaby)
And to try and put to rest any loneliness inside.

So farewell.

I see that summertime is near, summertime.
When all my troubles disappear, summertime.

I see that summertime is near, summertime.
When all my troubles disappear, summertime.

It's strange how the weather can make me feel so good,
and each year I do things I never thought I could.

The air is warm, (the air is warm)
The sky is blue, (the sky is:)
The slate is clean (the slate is clean)
And life is new.

I'm making the memories I never want to lose;
In summer, you can do anything you choose.

The air is warm, (the air is warm)
The sky is blue, (the sky is:)
The slate is clean (the slate is clean)
And life is new.

I see that summertime is near, summertime.
When all my troubles disappear, summertime.

(just sleep, the beauty of this place will seep into your very blood; i'll see that you aren't woken up) how can i find my way out? i dug this hole all by myself with "no more poems on napkins" and "i left the notebook on its shelf"; and it's slowed to just a trickle now but i wish that it was pouring out because there's so much here to write about. and all the leaves are turning brown; they're falling from their branches and landing at my feet, but i can hardly make a sound, a word of adoration, for what's surrounding me. (make it up from here, but i can't make it up from here, so i won't wake you up, my dear) and i just want to write with everything inside.