White Paint Morning

Sixty-eight at twenty-one

The girl has risen with the sun

It's a white paint morning now that the fog is gone

It's a bright, dumbfounded dawn

She lays down out on the lawn

And the new day wakes and turns to confront the clock

And down, the little town

All squared away

Don't it make you want to cry all day?

And gone, washed by the wind

Crushed by the clouds

It's where the land end and the day begins

"Is this normal?" she asks allowed

As she sifted through the crowd

Through her tears and her strong morning perfume

It seems that life's just not correct

From the observation deck

And she sits frozen in her bus seat all the way

And down, the little town

All squared away

Don't it make you want to cry all day?

And gone, washed by the wind

Crushed by the clouds

It's where the land end and the day begins

Statues and flowers

The crestfallen leaves

The minutes and hours

As ours gently leaves

And down, the little town

All squared away

Don't it make you want to cry all day?

And gone, washed by the wind

Crushed by the clouds

It's where the land end and the day begins

And down, the little town

All squared away

Don't it make you want to cry all day?

And gone, yeah gone

Yeah, yeah, yeah gone

Don't it make you wanna cry, cry, cry all day