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

And maybe she's just a morning glory

Lost in a tangle of vine

Her arms stretch wide

To receive 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

And 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