A lesson too late for the learning made of sand made of sand In the wink of an eye my soul is turning in your hand in your hand Are you going away with no word of farewell Will there be not a trace left behind Well I couldve loved you better didnt mean to be unkind You know that was the last thing on my mind As I walk alone my thoughtsre tumbling round and round round and round Underneath our feet a subways rumbling underground underground Are you going away... You got reasons of plenty for going this I know this I know The weeds have been steadily growing please dont go please dont go Are you going away... You know that was the last thing on my mind
round, underground, going, thoughtsre, sand