Henry's Songbook

        Are you going away with no word of farewell
        Will there be not a trace left behind
        I could have loved you better
        Didn't mean to be unkind
        You know that was the last thing on my mind

It's a lesson too late for the learning
Made of sand, made of sand
In the wink of an eye my soul is turning
In your hand, in your hand

You've got plenty of reasons for going
This I know, this I know
For the weeds have been steadily growing
Please don't go, please don't go

As I lie in my bed in the morning
Without you, without you
Each song in my breast dies a-borning
Without you, without you

[1988:] [This is] simply my best song. I have no idea why. I didn't know when I finished writing it that it was anything special; I even remember feeling that I had written better. Shows you how much I know. I've been asked if I don't get tired of singing the same songs night after night. The truth is some you do and some you don't. I don't get tired of this song. (Notes 'The Very Best of Tom Paxton')