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• Artiste: PT Walkley
• Titre: Ides Of March
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Hard to believe, the summer's gone The fall will fade and it won't be long til the ides of March We don't fight, but something's wrong The city's alright but it's just not home for a lovely country girl She's leaving The hours in the evening without you seem like years The apple's gone sour without you around Why don't you come back, dear? She said come to the country, it's oh so green The fresh air strips you conscience clean And there is no scene, just scenery (and you and me) The fields will flood, bring your boots in case The streets are mud, but they're always safe Even after dark, even in the ides of March The cows look funny, but I hardly ever laugh without you here The apples are actually quite sweet But not like you, dear Window seat on a morning flight I'd like to meet you there tonight Got a table in a field for two And a ring for you