The Leaning Tree

Scattered relics of all your loves
Lying 'round your dusty rugs
Baring old souls, opening old scars
Dissonant wallow of guitars

Burning off Indian sun
On the water barges hum
Through the bay window panes
Colors magnify and blaze

Sleeping poet's perfect dream
Pastel homes along the sea
This I would, this I will
Leave to join you in the hills

For you I would, for you I will
Leave this for the auburn hills
Find your old peeling house
Find you out there

Hear the owl call from the tree
Smell the midnight forest breathe
Shield you from the stalking night
Wake you in the morning

You came to me in a dream
Walking down the path by the cold, icy stream
The white of the snow coating the pines
In the Sierra wintertime

You disappeared, you left me alone
In the old master room of my mountain home
And I called for you, so many times
And longed for one more day with you in my life
I long for one more day with you in my life

I see you there in my dreams
Your poise is perfect, that of a statuesque queen
Your beautiful hair, your ocean blue eyes
That bear the depths of your losses inside

I begged of you so many times
To forgive me once and for all
For all of my lies
To forgive me once and for all
For all of my lies

Oh my me
The leaning tree
Like a dying hand

As we pass the long dead grass
Thirsty in the sun

Memories rest
Beyond the broken fence
Let their spirits be

The birds have left
Their mother's nest
On the roses' thorns

There they sway
Over the bleach-white graves
Sprawled over the hill