Rest beside me, Sara Turn the page, and yield to me Dew to all under your feet Including me, Sara Do you remember, Sara As we lay in garden grain And we smoked away our pain With a cigarette, Sara? In the breadth of the wheats field We were pierced by the late yield As we lay there all alone In the mist of all being Confined to one meaning On that Sunday, so well known Together, two craven bold And the seed which was not sown Just a cigarette, Sara ♪ Ain't it funny, Sara? As in the wheat, so long ago All I have is tobacco Will you keep it, Sara? That penitent stranger Who carries a danger Of your love, and your peace In a struggle so hard-earned To win back your pardon Let your wrong be upon he Princess, I'm lost, and cold If only I could hold Such a burden, Sara