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In the morning she is waking |
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With the gold dust in her hair |
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She is beauty, oh slightly broken |
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But I love her laying there |
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Spanish lady, treat her kindly |
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Feel her warm tenderness |
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Like Arkansas skies on the Fourth of July |
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She is painted on the night |
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And I'm free, free |
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Free, thank God I'm free |
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In the morning she is waking |
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With the gold dust in her hair |
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She is beauty, oh for just a token |
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But I can't evade her morning stare |
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And I'm free, free |
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Free, thank God I'm free |
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Won't you please walk down to edit time with me? |
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And I'm free |
