The mist of the morning in this strange town, lifted slowly with the sun, refracted the rays in a thousand ways. A new day just begun, and it crowded against my windowsill, still sweet with the morning dew. If only you knew, how much I think of you. Into the van and down the road, along the highway fast, with this band I ride through the countryside, the seasons slide and pass. I spied a humble homestead there, with a garden and a river view. If only you knew, how much I think of you. By a stream of running water, I heard you laugh. I closed my eyes for an hour and a half, and tried to make you appear. I swear, in the beauty of the setting sun, you were here. An old troubadour on the street that night, played for our passing change, on a fiddle and gee, a melody mysterious and strange. He'd land on a green distant mountaintop, the wedding was so sweet and true. If only you knew, how much I think of you. If only you knew, how much I think of you. If only you knew, how much I think of you.