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now and then, when i see her face,
it takes me away to that special place
and if i stare too long, i'll probably break down and cry
whoa-whoa-whoa, sweet child of mine
whoa-oh-oh-OH! sweet love of mine
she's got eyes of the bluest skies
that if they thought of rain
i'd hate to look into those eyes
and see an ounce of pain
her hair reminds me of a warm safe place
where, as a child, i'd hide
and pray for the thunder and the rain
to quietly pass me by
where do we go?
where do we go now?
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