Bill Withers - Stories lyrics

Who will buy a glad story That a young man has to tell? Come into my house of glory And I will treat you well Who will buy a sad story That a widow has to tell? Come into my house of lonely And I will treat you well Young and old, we all have stories That we all must try to sell Tales of how you get to heaven And how we been through hell Who will buy a perfumed story That a young girl has to tell? Sleep with me on satin pillows And I will treat you well