The sun it was setting
The war it was ending
With one final blazing beam
We stood alone
On the path to the water
Under a lonely juniper tree
Gone are the old birds,
Their children are finding their wings
I'll miss you, my love,
But I hope that you find what you seek
Don't say you love me
Before you leave.
I wouldn't worry, no,
All of our words have been buried
Centuries deep
When you're alone
And New York is bleeding you senseless
Just hold on to this memory
There's no use in painting a smile
That's already blue
When these fields have grown old,
It's the harvest that'll make you feel new