I think of you when the lights are low
Over the final drink and the Late-night Show;
One last drag on my cigarette:
The house feels empty as I head for bed.

Shouldering my loneliness into another dawn,
I sleep with your shadow, just beyond my arms:
You were too tender for this troubled world;
I was too timid to go for gold.

It's not only clowns who play the fool
But it's only the brave who confront the truth;
And while cowards may borrow a hero's stance
We are children, all, of circumstance.

I think of you under the starlit sky
As another summer slumbers by;
So many moons have waxed and waned
Over distances I still can't explain.

It's not only clowns who play the fool
But it's only the brave who confront the truth;
And while cowards may borrow a hero's stance
We are children, all, of circumstance.

Copyright © MGP & M.J.C. Griffin [ASCAP]