Simon Joyner
Simon Joyner
Simon Joyner
Simon Joyner
Simon Joyner
Simon Joyner
Simon Joyner
Simon Joyner
Simon Joyner
Simon Joyner
Simon Joyner
Simon Joyner
Simon Joyner
Simon Joyner
I don't want to go
The night hangs on the grass
It's cold outside your door mama
Everything outside is made of glass
Won't you lay with me
Until the sun crawls out of bed
The leaves blow lonely down the street
I don't want to feel that way again
I'm through with disappearing
And living like a ghost
And if your mouth has a memory
I believe I'll quit the road
Your eyes to embarrass
The clock with it's hands on tomorrow
Your voice to bandage the wounded wind
Your heart to drown the sorrows
They say hold on to your love
Until it breaks or leaves you stranded
Then you devote the rest of your dying days
To denying that it ever happened
So won't you make me a pallet
And let me lie down with you again
It's cold outside your window mama
Everything outside is made of rain