Souvenirs

Here is a poem that my lady sent down

Some morning while I was away

Wrote on the back of a leaf that she found

Somewhere around Monterey

And here is the key to a house far away

Where I used to live as a child

They tore down the building when I moved away

And left the key unreconciled

And down in the canyon, the smoke starts to rise

It rides on the wind till it reaches your eyes

When faced with the past

The strongest man cries, cries

And down in the canyon, the smoke starts to rise

It rides on the wind till it reaches your eyes

When faced with the past

The strongest man cries, cries

And here is a sunrise to set on your sill

The ghosts of the dawn moving near

They pass through your sorrow

And leave you quite still, sitting among souvenirs