Lenas been burning both ends of her candle. Shes over her head in complication and scandal. But Lena takes her troubles in stride. As she runs to the bottle,. To confess and confide,. Lena surren
How delicate the tracery of her fine lines. Like the moonlight lacetops of the evening pines. Like a song half heard through a closed door. Like an old book when you cannot read the writing anymore
I'm tired of tracing vapor trail, ghost letters in the sky. Living life in daydreams, watching precious time get by. Circle around this great big world, just chasing smoke. And never touching groun
We are going, heaven knows where we are going, . We'll know we're there. We will get there, heaven knows how we will get there, . We know we will. . It will be hard we know. And the road will be
