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.
Are you going away with no word of farewell,
Will there be not a trace left behind ?
I could have loved you better, didn't mean to be unkind
You know that was the last thing on my mind.
You've got reasons a-plenty for going,
This I know, this I know.
For the weeds have been steadily growing,
Please don't go, please don't go.
Are you going away with no word of farewell,
Will there be not a trace left behind ?
I could ha