Broken-Hearted Blues [Alternative][*]

This is a song that I wrote when I was young And I call it the broken-hearted blues The air on that night was tempered like a knife And the people wore the face-masks of a clown Don - he was long, misshapen and forlorn And his woman ran away without a smile Days of the earth are unbroken, changeless turf But the faces of the men are something else In the wind, as a boy, was a spacious sexual toy But, baby, now he's a toothless baggy man When the hills of the sun make you feel that you are young... Get good now, and face your face into the wind This is a song that I wrote when I was young And I called it the broken-hearted blues