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• Artiste: Livingston Taylor
• Titre: Blind
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My telephone rang I was too late Why did I stop to hesitate On my way home Take my hands let me confess 'Bout loving and hating and all of the rest And ideas I've roamed Then I saw a brilliant sign And let it slip behind And search again and Find I'm blind My thoughts they make a tender smile My hands they move and in a while I've got what I want. That tenderness that you insist you feel Ain't worth a damn 'cause it ain't real Lord it sure does haunt. Then you saw a brilliant sign And let it slip behind And search again and find you're blind. See me in a lonely Sunday If you've got the time And don't surprise me or you'll find That I'm completely blind. Now I'm so sick of what's being said My thoughts they burn inside my head There's not much untouched. All of my children begin to cry They clutch at me demanding why Tell 'em 'bout loving and such. Then they saw a brilliant sign And let it slip behind And search again and find they're blind. See them in a lonely Sunday If you've got the time And don't surprise them or you'll find That they're completely blind That they're completely blind.