Too Busy
The cold wind whistles through the graveyard
A solitary man shuffles through
He pauses for a moment to stare at the stone
He doesn't seem to know what to do
Her voice is an echoing memory
He recalls the muted pain in her eyes
The world seems a strange and different place
When the one that close to you dies
And he wishes he had done things better
And he wishes he had given more time
And he wishes he had let her touch his heart
He was always too busy to gather the fruit
When it was on the vine
His sleep is fitful and broken
He thinks he hears her steps passing by
He dreams she is silently begging once more
And even now he can't hear her cry
And he wishes he had done things better
And he wishes he had given more time
And he wishes he had let her touch his heart
He was always too busy to gather the fruit
When it was on the vine
And he wishes he had done things better
And he wishes he had given more time
And he wishes he had let her touch his heart
He was always too busy to gather the fruit
When it was on the vine
Her voice is an echoing memory
He recalls the muted pain in her eyes
He dreams she is silently begging once more
And even now he can't hear her cry
And he wishes he had done things better
And he wishes he had given more time
And he wishes he had let her touch his heart
He was always too busy to gather the fruit
Always too busy to gather the fruit
Always too busy to gather the fruit
When it was on the vine
A solitary man shuffles through
He pauses for a moment to stare at the stone
He doesn't seem to know what to do
Her voice is an echoing memory
He recalls the muted pain in her eyes
The world seems a strange and different place
When the one that close to you dies
And he wishes he had done things better
And he wishes he had given more time
And he wishes he had let her touch his heart
He was always too busy to gather the fruit
When it was on the vine
His sleep is fitful and broken
He thinks he hears her steps passing by
He dreams she is silently begging once more
And even now he can't hear her cry
And he wishes he had done things better
And he wishes he had given more time
And he wishes he had let her touch his heart
He was always too busy to gather the fruit
When it was on the vine
And he wishes he had done things better
And he wishes he had given more time
And he wishes he had let her touch his heart
He was always too busy to gather the fruit
When it was on the vine
Her voice is an echoing memory
He recalls the muted pain in her eyes
He dreams she is silently begging once more
And even now he can't hear her cry
And he wishes he had done things better
And he wishes he had given more time
And he wishes he had let her touch his heart
He was always too busy to gather the fruit
Always too busy to gather the fruit
Always too busy to gather the fruit
When it was on the vine
Credits
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