An old country road

Walking down the old country road, Hand me down clothes in the bag. Clothes with holes, and tattered robes, There’s no worries in getting dirty We’ll wash away the dirt in the stream, Whilst you stand there, smiling at me. Sing the songs that nobody’s heard As we look above, at singing birds. We’ll sit in meadows, of golden bed, As we dance without shoes, into scarlet nights. I’ll hold your hand, as I hold your heart, I’ll make you happy, you’ll see. I’ll publish my words, and sing my songs, For other people to hear, Of the days we went on the country road, And by my side you’ll be near. But for now I’ll wait, by the tree we met, And I’ll wait there for your presence, I’ll write my words, on paper with pen, And forever I will wait, my dear.