I’ve been feeling your holdnFor a week or sonThe impression showsnnAnd I know I’ve beennIn the arms of kinnMy old strength is my new friendnMy directionnMy reverencennAnd there’s a train in my heartnThat doesn’t seem to startnUnless you’re lying next to mennWhen I go to bednI lay down my wishful headnI’ll be hearing what you saidnEchoingnRevelingnnMy heart has been tearing nFor there to herenMy dearnnI’ve got a baseball mittnMade of leather and my spitnFor catching skybits that have slippednI call it sensationnYou call it revelationnnI’ve been feeling your holdnFor a week or sonThe impression shows