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
