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    It's a lesson too late for the learning
    Made of sand, made of sand
    In the winking of an eye my soul is turning
    In your hand, in your hand.

    Are you going away with no word of farewell?
    Will there be not a trace left behind?
    I could have loved you better
    Didn't mean to be unkind
    But you know that was the last thing on my mind.
    You had reasons plenty for going
    This I know, this I know.
    For the weeds have been steadily growing
    Please don't go, please don't go.


    As we walk, my thoughts are a-tumbling
    Round and round, round and round
    And the subway beneath my feet is a-rumbling
    Underground, underground


    As I lie in my bed in the morning
    Without you, without you.
    Every song in my breast dies a-borning
    Without you, without you.


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