under the autumn tree 
 the chair where you would swing 
 a yard so full of leaves  [bad word] me 

 a man that resembles me 
 watching his young lady sleep 
 now i'm off to dream  [bad word] me 

 is this my old shape, my mind is away, 
 how long have you been gone 
 the cold winter aged the soft of your face 
 and i cant move on 

 market morning sun 
 fish from an early hunt 
 i wait but you're gone 
 linger on 

 is this my old shape, my mind is away, 
 how long have you been gone 
 the cold winter aged the soft of your face 
 and i cant move on 

 linger on 
 linger on 
 i cant move on