The Last Thing On My Mind

It's a lesson too late for the learning

Made of sand, made of sand

In the wink of an eye my soul is turning

In your hand, In your hand

As we walk, all my thoughts are a-tumblin'

'Round and 'round, 'round and 'round

Underneath our feet the subway's rumblin'

Underground, underground

You've got reasons a plenty for goin

This I know, this I know

For the weeds have been steadily growin

Please don't go, please don't go

As I lie in my bed in the morning

Without you, without you

Each song in my breast dies a-borning

Without you, without you