Gone With The Winner
(J.L. Milford / P. Ives)
Waiting for the noise to disappear
The crying all the saint
The pining of the fool
I never had the time to pray
Waiting for the sound to calm my way
I'm tired of asking why I'm dying everyday
You're leaving now, your lips are gone
Gone with the winner, gone, gone with the wind
And now it's like a silent thing that's running in my hand
Gone, gone with the wind
And now it's like a silent thing that's running in my hand
Gone, gone with the wind
Coming with desolate state of mind
You wouldn't've gone to war
The slave to every tear
I'm waiting for the smoke to fade
I listen to this calling in your eyes crying all the saint
The pining of a fool
You're leaving now, your lips are gone
Gone with the winner, gone, gone with the wind
And now it's like a silent thing that's running in my hand
Gone, gone with the wind
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