When your blues get the bite on you
when the moon sees the night in you
when the memory of rain
comes and sweeps you again
when your friends
run out of hand
and the cock like a train
and you carry your pain
when the sun in the morning
is against you not for you
when your sugar turns bitter
when fall shows its mittens
when your crystal ball dews
when you know that you loose
when you’re down off your coast
know, my love, that’s when I love you most.