I've got a
little house on Walnut Street
The nights are quiet and the mornings sweet
I've got an old wood floor
beneath my feet
That somebody's grandfather built
I he used to keep his lucky strikes
on this win dowsill.
While he planed and worked
that wood
un til he made silk from the yellow pine.
I got a paper that says this house is mine,
but it ain't.
It belongs to time.
And with morning at the window,
sometimes I swear this old room glows
And somewhere between
what you can and cannot see,
that old man is here
The neighbor lady sings all day long
She only stops at night
just to start a dawn
I swear she only knows about three songs
But I find myself singing, too
One of her sad old country tun es
It reminds me of an afternoon
I was a kid and it was Sat urday
Just me and my dad driving
out to the lake
Now he's just so far away
But with morning at the window
Sometimes I swear this room glows
And somewhere between
what you can and cannot
See, He's right here
Last night I dreamed that I could fly
If I held my arms just right,
I'd stay treetop high
Hell, I may just be a bird sometimes
Hanging right above it all
A bird with a sad and lonesome call
Any moment I might fall for you again
And when morning at the
window
Sometimes I swear this room glows
Somewhere between, but you can't,
you cannot see,
you're still here
You