Ode To A Pipe When night has come and chores are done And sparks waft up the flue In a worn old chair I sit me down And turn, Old Pipe, to you You take me far from things that are To things as I hoped they'd be Dead dreams of youth live in your smoke These things, Old Pipe, you bring to me Each sinking sun sees a fading hope That each dawn borns anew In the curling smoke from your blackened bowl. I see my dreams come true Back through the years you carry me To days of Auld Lang Syne When life was young and hope was sweet And so are you, Old Pipe of Mine But time grows late and to bed I must To be up with the dawn's first light So I put you down but I promise this We'll dream again tomorrow night
Ode To A Pipe.
Faulkner, John
Ode To A Pipe When night has come and chores are done And sparks waft up the flue In a worn old chair I sit me down And turn, Old Pipe, to you You take me far from things that are To things as I hoped they'd be Dead dreams of youth live in your smoke These things, Old Pipe, you bring to me Each sinking sun sees a fading hope That each dawn borns anew In the curling smoke from your blackened bowl. I see my dreams come true Back through the years you carry me To days of Auld Lang Syne When life was young and hope was sweet And so are you, Old Pipe of Mine But time grows late and to bed I must To be up with the dawn's first light So I put you down but I promise this We'll dream again tomorrow night