i draw upon my stringed beast, and play the melody
and there i weave a storyline that i would love to be
my lady miles east of here, and i am all alone
i could see her friday, but now there isn't one
so here i sit and ponder, as i weave a sacred rhyme
of life and loss and mystery, and love that stands thru time
and songs will play, and make some cry, for what they'll never have
and i will sing of misery, and what i had once had
its over now, and long since passed, a love so far away
sometimes i think that this could be the answer to what i'd prayed
as i'm alone it gives me a moment to ponder and reflect
and judge myself for what i am and not what she would want
and that could be the chorus, in the song that draws me down
about the lady that was sleeping on the other side of town
but hopefully its over and there will not be refrain
for next committal of my heart will be not sown in pain
and where i find my glory, and the love that i might find
i hope that i will see her, and not be love-eyed blind
i know that not all women are evil in intent
but love for love is nothing, but for woman it's well spent
the end
