A hundred quiet friends in rows
Are waiting on the shelf
I run my finger down the spines
Like keys upon a shelf
Each one a door, each one a road
Each one a little self
No hurry choosing where to go
The going's half the grace
Take the one that calls your name
The afternoon is wide
Some words are lamps for weary feet
And I could use the light
This one's cover's soft with years
Its ribbon's faded gold
It smells like every rainy day
It's ever seen me through
Take the one that calls your name
The afternoon is wide
Some words are lamps for weary feet
And I could use the light
Mmm... mmm... mmm
Take the one that calls your name
The afternoon is wide
Some words are lamps for weary feet
And I could use the light
A hundred quiet friends in rows
I'm taking one to tea
