Charlie says that things could turn out well, of one thing we're all sure, time is gonna tell, but Blue has gone away, and Little Joe as well, and the medals that you gave to me, too precious now to sell, Charlie says some things are meant to last, like painted wooden castles, treasure from my past, of eleven years you gave to me, only fragments still remain, but the bliss of generations, somehow handed down and given with my name.
© 1997 Lyrics by N.Thomas. All rights reserved.