it s a lesson too late for the learning made of sand made of sand in the wink of an eye my soul is turning in your hand in your hand as we walk all my thoughts are a tumblin round and round round and round underneath our feet the subway s rumblin underground underground you ve got reasons a plenty for goin this i know this i know for the weeds have been steadily growin please don t go please don t go as i lie in my bed in the morning without you without you each song in my breast dies a borning without you without you