|
Oh the neon lights were flashin' |
|
And the icy wind did blow |
|
The water seeped into his shoes |
|
And the drizzle turned to snow |
|
His eyes were red, his hopes were dead |
|
And the wine was runnin' low |
|
And the old man came home |
|
From the forest |
|
His tears fell on the sidewalk |
|
As he stumbled in the street |
|
A dozen faces stopped to stare |
|
But no one stopped to speak |
|
For his castle was a hallway |
|
And the bottle was his friend |
|
And the old man stumbled in |
|
From the forest |
|
Up a dark and dingy staircase |
|
The old man made his way |
|
His ragged coat around him |
|
As upon his cot he lay |
|
And he wondered how it happened |
|
That he ended up this way |
|
Getting lost like a fool |
|
In the forest |
|
And as he lay there sleeping |
|
A vision did appear |
|
Upon his mantle shining |
|
A face of one so dear |
|
Who had loved him in the springtime |
|
Of a long-forgotten year |
|
When the wildflowers did bloom |
|
In the forest |
|
She touched his grizzled fingers |
|
And she called him by his name |
|
And then he heard the joyful sound |
|
Of children at their games |
|
In an old house on a hillside |
|
In some forgotten town |
|
Where the river runs down |
|
From the forest |
|
With a mighty roar the big jets soar |
|
Above the canyon streets |
|
And the con men con but life goes on |
|
For the city never sleeps |
|
And to an old forgotten soldier |
|
The dawn will come no more |
|
For the old man has come home |
|
From the forest |
