The song I love the bestâs the one my father taught to me,
The kindness of a stranger is dust from an unseen wing,
But an old friend at my table is by far the finest thing
This tired mile could give to me.
The colors of the man I love are deepest blue and green,
And it isnât very often that I say just what I mean,
Cause the feeling seems to scatter and these words fall in between.
For what I miss Iâll just tell you this,
Itâs something to me.
Itâs something to me.
I donât know what it comes to and itâs not so much to see,
But you take tomorrow so long as you know
Itâs something to me,
Itâs something to me.
Well, the city comes to greet me with her secrets all lit up,
Beauty is letting your guard down all the way in hands you trust,
But thereâs a time you hold your head up, say it doesnât hurt so much,
Keep all your tears where no one can see.
Gentle is the road within me and itâs gently I depart,
Cause these well-worn threads of daylight will sometimes come apart,
Giving way to all the shadows where no one can hear your heart,
So down in the dark, if thatâs where you are,
Itâs something to me.
Now the tender hands of morning have given up a new sunrise,
And we all get up together in our ordinary lives,
Going one step for another giving up has crossed my mind,
But Iâll take a long day, come round the right way.
Itâs something to me.