This is a song, that I wrote when I was young
And I call it the broken-hearted blues
The air on that night was tempered like a knife
And the people wore the face masks of a clown
Don he was long, mis-shapen and forlorn
And his woman ran away without a smile
Days of the earth are unbroken changeless turf
But the faces of the men are something else

Jason Wind, as a boy, was a spacious sexual toy
But baby now he's a toothless baggy man
When the hills of the sun
Make you feel that you are young
Get good now and face your face into the wind
This is a song that I wrote when I was young
And I called it the Broken Hearted Blues