83

04:42
Christopher Wilson
2001
Christopher Wilson

Lyrics

83

 

we hiked the falls

consumed in awe

August of '83

the hemlocks high

laurels lie beneath their canopy

 

what is the meaning of numbers

Tuesdays are your worst

I dreamed of you in white woven linen

and wide open beautiful spaces

the kind for which there's no replacing

sprawling falls on split rocks that quiver

our vested love

 

countless days...the twelfth of May...and all we knew

turning tires...turnstiles...no path to choose

the ones that he called babies

the littlest of them all

one who'd keep the blackest sheep

save the harm

 

we hiked the falls

exhumed with awe

August of '93

an eddy of patchouli hovers next to me

in wide open beautiful spaces

and you I know there's no replacing

nestled in the ivy so weathered

the angels...my vanquished love

 

count the days...the twelfth of May...and all we knew

turnstiles...turning backs...those leaden shoes

the ones that he called babies

the biggest of them all

in meadows deep the blackest sheep...long to belong

 

83...83...I flock to you

the sunny side of a leaden sky

it shines right through

the one that he called baby

the littlest of them all

one must keep the blackest sheep

save the harm

 

(Words and music by Christopher Wilson; copyright 2001, Christopher Wilsongs, ASCAP. All rights reserved.)