Buried Hearts from Lost Mary by Lost Mary

I’ve counted the days, since we buried our hearts,
In the glade by the cedar tree.
And now I’m a-digging somewhere in the dark,
But I can’t find the place that they’re buried.

If I could write you the saddest of tunes,
I would and I’d win you back for good,
But the gods and the muses would send me to ruin,
And I’d probably lose you again too.

I sat in my room, night after night,
Listening to the ghosts laugh and sneer,
They said, “Boy, what’s your worry, don’t pout like you’re sorry,”
But I stared straight at the moon.

Someday I’ll shake, the dust off those words,
The words which have grown old in my thoughts,
And whether I mean them, or whether I don’t,
The word love will taste strange on my tongue.

I packed up my bags and I sold all my books,
I stored the past in a box.
I’ll burn the last picture, but Lord I’ll still miss her,
I’ll just be a boy on the run.

• Folk
• indiefolk
• singersongwriter
• Hillsdale