Let's not drive away just yet,
give me a moment a more,
to walk through those rooms again,
to walk through that door.
If I turn off the radio,
I've only to close my eyes,
and the wind in the sycamore,
will carry me home.
Vine of my memory,
is blooming around those eaves,
it's true it's a chore to tame,
wisteria, wisteria.
I'm tempted to ring the bell,
maybe they'd let me in,
or maybe it's just as well,
to just let it be.
Remember the price we paid,
it seemed like a lot back then,
remember the love we made,
the day we moved it.
Vine of my memory,
is blooming around those eaves,
it's true it's a chore to tame,
wisteria, wisteria.
Vine of my memory,
is blooming around those eaves,
it's true it's a chore to tame,
wisteria, wisteria, wisteria.
It did need some pruning back,
but I know that it's not my place,
but how cut they just cut it down,
and leave not a trace.
Let's not drive away just yet,
give me moment more,
to walk through those rooms again,
to walk through that door.

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