suddenly the quiet night is broken by a gunshot
a pool of blood seeps into the floor
Joanna, clothed in white and red, mumbles of out earshot
"My God, have I seen that face before?"
that evening as she falls asleep, her heart begins to empty
helplessness creeps into her soul
she has been a witness to the "murder of the century"
and everyday Jo finds she's growing old
and oh, she hates the life around her
she's numb to the affection that she gets
her life is filled with strife and discord
her past — a book of lost hopes and regrets
Joanna finally falls asleep — six hours 'til the morning
the sentence of another cloudy day
At eight 'o clock she sees herself reflected in the window
the glass is hard, the cold won't go away
and oh, she hates the life around her
she's numb to the affection that she gets
her life is filled with strife and discord
her past — a book of lost hopes and regrets
Written following the untimely death of singer/songwriter John Denver.