MARY
BETH
Peter Yarrow
©1972
The seagull in the dusty dawn is floating on the wind
His wings are still.
And below the weary streets are breathing,
Softly they are watching.
They are not quite ready for the dawn.
Oh, Mary Beth, I love you and the city is so empty.
I can not find my comfort in the beauty of the morn.
Below the weary streets are breathing,
Softly they are watching.
They are not quite ready for the dawn.
One by one the street lights close their eyes to greet the
sun... To greet the sun.
I hear my footsteps falling on the pavement
You are not beside me.
What a hollow sound they make alone
Why, with all this beauty, can I not enjoy myself alone?
Is there a piece of me that's waiting?
Am I incomplete and hating all the times
I've never been with you before?
Mary Beth, I love you and the city is so empty.
I can not find my comfort in the beauty of the morn.
Below the weary streets are breathing,
Softly they are watching.
They are not quite ready ready for the dawn.
The seagull in the dusty dawn is floating on the wind
His wings are still.
And below the weary streets are breathing,
Softly they are watching.
They are mindful of the coming of my dawn.
Mary Beth, I love you...
Mary Beth... I love you.
|
