| And there’s always love
|
| Whether tattered, strained, or torn
|
| And on a train through the midwest
|
| I was trying to get reborn
|
| In a mining town
|
| That had long been left to dust
|
| Stood a statue of a man
|
| A plant poking through the rust
|
| And there’s always love
|
| When you think there’s none to give
|
| And when we stumbled through the cave
|
| Where a hermit used to live
|
| And to say goodbye
|
| Makes a mess of all my thoughts
|
| It makes me wish for eloquence
|
| When its love that’s all I’ve got
|
| And on that slow train rolling
|
| Through the city
|
| The sun is rising
|
| The cornfields blurring
|
| My mind is muddled
|
| Our hearts our heavy
|
| Our bodies seem so temporary |