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Frances Cone
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Miles
I became so bitter that I thought it would be winter
Through June, July my fingers would be sore
But since my heart has broken, all these doors have flown wide open
It is warmer, I don't need you anymore
It is warmer, I don't need you
For miles and miles and miles
For miles and miles and miles
We are old enough to have forgotten how
We try, we try, we try
Your eyes became so muddy that we moved across the country
And never found what we were looking for
Always a gentleman with no pretense and so much heart he couldn't give
It was over, he didn't love her for
Miles and miles and miles
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