On a Tuesday In Amsterdam Long Ago Counting Crows

A picture of Amsterdam
Bare trees under glass
Framed in the gray and white afternoon light
Of a winter long past

When I was a riser
To Dublin I’d roam
She was a bareback rider
Some miles from home

Come back to me
Come back to me
Come back to me
Come back to me

She's a carnival diver
Hung in the sky
Cutting through time like a memory
Strung on a wire

The color of anything
Fades in the air
She is the film of a book of the story
Of the smell of her hair

Come back to me
Come back to me
Come back to me
Come back to me