Wind Chimes
Hanging down from my window, those are my wind chimes.
On the warm breeze, the little bells tinkle like wind chimes.
Though it's hard, I try not to look at my wind chimes.
Now and then a tear rolls off my cheek.
Close your eyes and lean back and listen to wind chimes.
In the late afternoon, you're hung up on wind chimes.
Though it's hard, I try not to look at my wind chimes.
Autor(es): Brian Wilson / Van Dyke Parks
