Fare thee well, gentle maid. I'll see you on your way,
And the sun would rise tomorrow to wash our sins away.
I know it must have hurt you, but we only had a day,
And I think that's why you left me in your own sad little way.
You're gone-disappeared.
I only end up crying three thousand miles from here.
Some would say that you're a loser 'cause you play a loser's game.
Oh, but if I am the winner, why am I so ashamed?
If you hear a young dove crying, you'll know its me to blame,
'Cause I never got her number; I never knew her name'
And she's gone-disappeared,
And I only end up crying three thousand miles from here.
hope this helps slan
HTML line breaks added. --JoeClone, 17-Aug-02.