Stones would play inside her head,
and where she slept they made her bed.
And she would ache for love, and get but stones.
La la la la la la la la la la.
Lordy, child, a good day’s comin’
And I’ll be there to let the sun in
and bein’ lost is worth the comin’ home.
La la la la la la la la la on stones.
You and me, a time, for planting;
You and me, a harvest granting
the ev’ry prayer ever prayed
for just two wild flow’rs that grow.
La la la la la la la la la on stones.