Lyrics: Jeff Buckley. Sketches (For My Sweetheart The Drunk). Thousand Fold.

I have no desire to make contact
With all the thought of no, no
I shiver now to think of how
This answer asked her, no
Long time gone, I run to my hideout

There ain't a star born that brightens
More than you, you always should have known, Joan
I'll illuminate your question
Long time ago, I'd died and gone

What has brought the question?
Time has brought the question
Come and call the question, oh, oh, oh
Here are the stars, same thing again

Over, over, over, over, over, over
Over, over, over, over, over, over