Lyrics
In the paper dawn
I believed I saw a light
and in the rising sun
I believed I felt a warmth upon my face
I know every day brings a new deck of cards
and I know every hour deals a new hand to play
When the cotton clouds
turn a deathly gray
Then we must move on, there is no place to stay
And if it is true that irony attends to hope
then I'll lay down beneath the tallest wintered evergreen
But something in my blood, my bones, is yearning to hang on
my mind reels in the spring draught
what is in the air?
