Phoenicia

Sometimes I think I’ll leave Phoenicia
when the maple boughs are buried in the frost,
but I wait the winter through, like a signpost for you,
if you ever realize you are lost.

I’ve been thinking of our first summer in Phoenicia
when the sunlight fell like coins into our hands.
Our means then were poor, but inside I felt so sure
that our love was as strong as our plans.

They say dreamers are like trees:
they can’t do nothing at all …

I saw the future coming for us in Phoenicia.
I saw a vineyard and a house for you and me.
But your older brothers frowned on the love we had found,
and they came to take you down to Albany.

They say dreamers are like trees:
they can’t do nothing at all.
But with my feet in the earth and my head in the sun,
you can come lean on me, honey,
when your city days are done.
Don’t you know I’ll be here standing tall?

Now the pockets of my overcoat are empty
and I spend the passing hours gathering wool.
There’s no food upon my shelf, but I trust myself.
My faith has always kept me full.

So I light a candle for you in Phoenicia,
just in case you should ever feel alone.
In the darkness of your night, you can follow its light
to the place where you’ll always have a home.

They say dreamers are like trees:
they can’t do nothing at all.
But with my feet in the earth and my head in the sun,
you can come lean on me, honey,
when your city days are done.
Don’t you know I’ll be here standing tall?

Words and music copyright of Paul Weinfield/Tam Lin Music Publishing (BMI, 2013)

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