Žodžiai dainai: Lizz Wright. Salt. Blue Rose.

Blue as the crying sky
With no thorn, AND no THISTLE
Only AN open face
Staring at the waking world

Maybe she?s just a morning glory
Lost in a tangle of vine
Maybe she?s just a morning glory
Lost in a tangle of vine

Her arms stretch wide
To receive a life
And her ROOTS go deep into the BLACK EARTH for strength
And she blooms and

Maybe she?s just a morning glory
Lost in a tangle of vine
Maybe she?s just a morning glory
Lost in a tangle of vine

She blooms while the people sleep
Only the TRAVELERS SEE HER
To those who RISE with the noon day Sun
She is a closed mystery

AND Maybe she?s just a morning glory
Lost in a tangle of vine
OH, Maybe she?s just a morning glory
Lost in a tangle of vine
Lost in a tangle of vine
Lost in a tangle of vine