if I could take one moment with me - if I could pick my place in time
If I could wander down some secret path -- the day before I die
I know I'd find that summertime, in the recess of my mind

on the edge of 1969

on the beach down in La Jolla, where the surfers used to play

we had packed our whisky and our wine, into my old man's chevrolet,
and you made me take the top down, so you could see that old sun shine
on the edge of 1969.


chorus


and the sun beat down
in 1969,
you drank all my whisky

and I drank all your wine
and we talked over the radio
where every song they played was a reminder of how free were

and of the love we made
we stood there by the shoreline, hand in hand in time
on the edge of 1969


we were drunk on conversation and we planned the years away
we made love to Nilsson, as night-time stole the day,

and when you turned and smiled at me it was the first time that you cried
on the edge of 1969


and the waves they cleansed our bodies like some unforgiving god...
I felt your breathing deepen -- your body seering hot.
And you swore I'd held you closer than you'd been held all your life

on the edge of 1969



Bridge
and that just cannot be the last time that I ever saw your face
I must have walked that beach a thousand times

maybe it's true what they say -- you dissapeared without a trace,
but I , I like to think you're doing fine.


I like to think you hit Wisconsin or took a train to Idlewild
and settled for a husband -- and you've taken on a child.
But in my heart I know you're there alone, and watching the sun rise

back on the edge of 1969