Holding On To Good Paroles

'Cause in the morning, in the morning
Sometimes I think about the way you held me
In the morning, in the morning
Sometimes I think about the way you held me

It's colder in November
The leaves are turning on the limbs
The color’s brightest just before the branches thin
And, yes, I still remember
But I am trying to begin
I met a new love and I’m growing into him

But in the morning, in the morning
Sometimes I think about the way you held me
In the morning, in the morning
Sometimes I think about the way you held me

I see a new flag rising on an old flagpole
A shotgun fired in the firing hole Sometimes I think about the way you held me