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The lost and found is back in my hometown. |
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Where a universe of sound amounts to dust on a shelf. |
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In a psychedelic hell souls pass by but cannot be held |
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One drink from the well romances all that falling out. |
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Bloody Mary in the ground, back in my hometown |
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Under a mountain of doubt built up to settle down |
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Across the canal, the iron roads are running parallel |
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Toy wooden horses and summertime soldiers burning on that carousel. |
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I heard through the grapevine that you were beautiful at the bar last night. |
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I hope you had a great time blushing while you bled red wine. |
