Perry Blake
Perry Blake
Perry Blake
Perry Blake
Perry Blake
Perry Blake
Perry Blake
Perry Blake
Perry Blake
Perry Blake
Perry Blake
Drink to our demolished home
Where loss resides alone
Like a widow by the radio
Child, childhood is a place
Where sorrow comes of age
A widow by the radio
Try to understand
I couldn't hold your hand
I couldn't even hold a gun
Surely we could find
A reason or a sign
That everything's not gone for good
Autumn whispers through the trees
Cheap things to her and me
But patience wears a uniform
Nature take care of your sons
I think they have become
The Darlings of the universe
Try to understand
I couldn't hold your hand
I couldn't even hold a gun
Surely we could hide
A reason or a sigh
That everything is gone for good