Her name was Joanne
And she lived in the meadow by a pond,
And she touched me for a moment
With a look that spoke to me of her sweet love.
Then the woman that she was drove her on in desperation,
And I saw as she went a most hopeless situation
For Joanne and the man and the times that made them both run.
She was only a girl;
I know that well, but still I could not see
That the hold that she had
Was much stronger than the love she felt for me.
But stay-ing with her, and my little bit of wisdom
Broke down her desires like a light through a prism
Into yellows and blues and a tune that I could not have sung.
Though the essence is gone, I have no tears to cry for her,
And my only thoughts of her are kind.
(Repeat first verse)