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The Show Ponies
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The Blackest Crow, Pt. 1
As time draws near my dearest dear
when you and I must part
What little you know of the grace and awre of my poor ackeing heart
Each night I suffer for your sake
Yours the one I love so dear
I wish that I was gone with you or you were staying hear
I wish my breast was made of glass where in you might be hold
Or there your name lies row my dear in letters made of gold
Or there your name lies row my dear
Belive me what I say
You are the one I love the best until my dieing day
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