Way down in the open field,
what you are is what I ask.
Way down in the open room there,
what I am is my own task.
Way down in the open field,
a weed of roses there that you can see.
And way down in the open field,
a weed of roses from you to me.
No one voice can have that tone.
There are others out there.
what you are is what I ask.
Way down in the open room there,
what I am is my own task.
Way down in the open field,
a weed of roses there that you can see.
And way down in the open field,
a weed of roses from you to me.
No one voice can have that tone.
There are others out there.