Walnut Street

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I've got a little house on Walnut Street 
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The nights are quite, the morning's sweet. 
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Got an old wood floor beneath my feet, 
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That somebody's grandfather built. 
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I bet he used to keep his lucky stripes on this windowsill, 
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While he planned and worked that wood until 
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He made silk from the yellow pine. 
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I've got a paper that says this house is mine,  
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But it ain't...it belongs to time. 

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With morning at the window, sometimes I swear this old room glows 
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And somewhere between what you can and cannot see, 
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That old man is here. 

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The neighbor lady sings all day long. 
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She only stops at night to start at dawn. 
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I swear she only knows about three songs, 
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But I find myself singing to one of her sad old country tunes. 
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It reminds me of an afternoon...I was a kid and it was Saturday. 
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Just me and my dad drivin' out to the lake. 
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Now he's just so far away... 

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With morning at the window, sometimes I swear this old room glows 
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And somewhere between what you can and cannot see, 
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He's right here... 

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Last night I dreamed that I could fly. 
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If I held my arms just right, I'd stay treetop high. 
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Hell, I may just be a bird sometimes. 
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Hanging right above it all ; a bird with a sad and lonesome call 
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And any moment I might fall, for you... again. 

      Em             D  C                G              D    C 
With morning at the window, sometimes I swear this old room glows 
         G      
And somewhere between what you can and cannot see, 
   D            G (4X) 
You're still here.