(R.J. Johnson/Guiney/Reedy) Feel the glow from the lampshade, its the shadow that shows his age He's an old man with a weathered soul, who burned to live before he got far too old he tells stories to fill the space Once he said, "it's so cold in early November... and all the sky and trees are a rust colored Grey I know her eyes still smile when I bring her flowers... I took them yesterday" we put her down not long ago... close enough to keep something to hold, and far away from what she knew then... on further out he stands alone, by the only thing he seems to call his own his eyes fill up again He's an old man with a weathered soul who burned to live before he got far too old he tells stories to fill the space Once he said, "it's so cold in early November... and all the sky and trees are a rust colored Grey I know her eyes still smile when I bring her flowers... I took them yesterday" ..gets farther on his own.. it's the only thing he still has to hold... he's got stories to fill the space Now he says... "it's still cold in earl November.. she keeps the sky and trees their rust colored Grey I know her eyes still smile when I bring her flowers, I took them yesterday."
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