I was born in the town where even the weeds don't show, Yes,
Never planted a sprout to watch it take hold and grow, Yes,
But I lie in my bed and think of a spade,
With my hands on the handle and my foot at the blade,
And I fall asleep like a child of long ago,
Long ago.

I was born in the town where you never see the sky, Yes,
Where the glassed-in walls are shutters to your eye, Yes,
But I lie in my bed like a bird in flight,
Like an eagle riding the windy night,
And I fall asleep with the starlight singing by,
Singing by.

I was born in the town where trust is a banker's name, Yes,
In the town where love is a children's sidewalk game, Yes,
But we lie in our bed like two alone,
Before the world was hardly grown,
And my hand is cupping your shoulder bone,
And under our head is the natural stone,
And the forest leaves protect us from the rain,
From the rain.

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