When a western man loses his best friend many days are spent in years
|
And without belief he knows his empty grief is a name for his own fears
|
Oh, the eyes are still. Oh, but even sleeping
|
|
My dearest friend till we meet again and ever, we'll be blowing
|
Maybe weep awhile for those below; until then I'll keep on going
|
But oh, the heart, the hurt keeps on keepin' on, on and on
|
|
Let them alone for those down there speak our sorrow
|
While we can't share the joke together, yeah, we keep on going
|
My dearest friend till we meet again
|
O-ku Nsu-kun No-ko
|
The dead are weeping for the dead
|
|
-----------------
|
Vacant Chair
|
Steve Winwood |