I've been loving you a long time,
down all the years down all the days.
And I've cried for all your troubles,
smiled at your funny little ways.
We watched our friends grow up together,
and we saw them as they fell.
Some of them fell into heaven,
some of them fell into hell.
Fell into hell.
I sang you all my sorrows,
you told me all your joys.
Whatever happened to that old song?
To all those little girls and boys,
those little girls and boys.
Sometimes I wake up in the morning,
a ginger lady by my bed.
Covered in a cloak of silence.
I hear you talking in my head.
I'm not singing for the future.
I'm not dreaming of the past.
I'm not talking of the first time.
I never think about the last.
About the last.