| The grass is long in the valley, my love
|
| And there we’ll go to lie
|
| When the hawk is high above the house for us And he guards over the blue sky
|
| When winter comes and the nights are cold
|
| I’ll take your hand to hold
|
| I dreamed I flew with the saints last night
|
| I know them all by wing size
|
| And up there it just doesn’t count for naught
|
| Whether you’re clever or wise
|
| When everyone is talking at the very same time
|
| I’ll still hear your voice, my dear
|
| Genesius the actor and Agnes of Rome
|
| Are two of the truest who fly
|
| I know she’s a stout heart
|
| And though he had a false start
|
| There’s a promise of truth in his eyes
|
| And it’s a stout heart catches the rain
|
| And it’s a stout heart that feels the pain
|
| And It’s a stout heart that loves again
|
| It’s a stout heart
|
| Yeah, it’s a stout heart
|
| Everyone goes against the wind sometimes
|
| When the shipping forecast’s wrong
|
| Said we were landlocked and stuck to this soil
|
| Guess they never heard of us winged throng
|
| Let’s gather us up to the heavens above
|
| We can always come back, my love
|
| We can always come back, my love |