him a pillow full of dreams
Soft winter wool and summer fleas
The colors of the berries that
Strands of cloudy gray and
And she sits beside the open
Combs the carded wool in her lash,
Talking to the one she loves as
she weaves the henspun yarn.
Like a web around her there to
She dances in his heart like a feather
So fine the threads that bind the
Sometimes the strongest love hangs by
He always loved to sing those
That one about an old friend ridin'
But his favorites were the ones he
could play between the lines
He would sit on her porch
With his guitar in his hands,
Weaving pictures in her mind,
But the songs he wrote for her
were the only ones she heard.
So fine the threads that bound
She'd love to hear him sing,
Sometimes the strongest love hangs by such a slender thread.
And a child's smile on a man full grown
If he'd gone just another inch,
At times a life can hang by
He can only thank his stars
And then he has to choose to
this time she's already said
That fine line that you walk is
But still he counts the scars
Sometimes the strongest love hangs
She's weaving him a pillow for