Lyrics

This is a morning made for Martha,
The marbled clouds awash in pink.
A sliver moon she's carved in ivory,
A veil of mist too pure to drink.

But when will Martha come, when will we wade the rising tide?
Oh, when will Martha come--when will she walk here by my side?

We've known our share of disappointments;
Leaving our better selves behind.
I've walked away from what I needed;
She's helped me see that I was blind.

And when will Martha come? Shore birds are waiting to rejoice.
Yes, when will Martha come--when will we hear her laughing voice?

This is an evening made for Martha,
A copper sunset in the West.
Against a silhouette of palm trees
The evening star has reached its crest.

But when will Martha come, to name the stars I count each night?
Oh, when will Martha come--when will this darkness know her light?

This was a morning made for Martha,
The marbled clouds awash in pink.
A sliver moon she's carved in ivory,
A veil of mist too pure to drink.

Dan Gribbin
bluzeman1@hotmail.com
Phone: 386-760-8226
Cell: 386-956-1813