Texty: Emily Wells. Goodbye.

Fresh with exhaustion down in warm grass.
With the birds callin out, I drifted in visions.
While in the backroom of the blue shuttered house
The old men they died, with the birds callin out.
For six days he lay, talkin less, talkin less
Fighting with the will the fiercest warrior would embarrass.

Like a page, like a page, we did turn, we did turn him.
Turn him while he lay.
I learned, I did learn of the spirit of a man.
He will yearn till that very last day.
Like a page, like a page he will yearn, he will yearn.
Into his mothers arms he?ll return.

I sat by his side, callin to sleep.
Singin hems Id known as a child.
Shuttin his eyes, a single tear did slide
To dry on his cheek in the mornin.
Mornin did break, like it was callin his name.
And there we were all sayin goodbye.
Fresh from my wounds, I stood up and bled
And there, I gave him away.

Like a page, like a page, we did turn, we did turn him.
Turn him while he lay.
I learned, I did learn of the spirit of a man.
He will yearn till that very last day.
Like a page, like a page he will yearn, he will yearn.
Into his mothers arms he?ll return.