My Parade

wait for time to turn or you calling my name again

same talk with the same loose friends about calling you

staying young in my mind, in the windows that reflect the sun

left on a moving perch, singing out loudand now you're far away, and nothing will ease the pain

now trouble is on my paradecold on the bone, from a borrowed dress

and sunday morning's once more, once less

my words on a page, and they're ruined in inksee now you're far away, and nothing will ease the pain

now trouble is on my parade