Bittern and blue stone No more elastic fluid, we're free of vitriol These trees (they make me feel) remind me of home This molded crop, these rusted cogs Oh, how this wasted time has flown Lady of Gold, I'm coming home Sun-baked hardcover books Up against that citronella sting And I miss those days Oh, and, the nights with her This molded crop, these rusted cogs This time just flew, I'm such a buffoon Lady of Gold, I'll be home soon One more night with her This molded crop, these rusted cogs Filled with grime, I won't get back in time My Lady of Gold, I'll just miss you more