Henry James, sailed into the night
Such a poor vessel, such a lonely face
He had the courage, but didn't have the knowledge
So he drowned
Madam waltzed into the room
Such an angry dress, in a beautiful saloon
Oh my, oh my my my
And it's a slow walk, back into the night
On Fridays I get paid to forget what I've done
On Sundays I change, I turn a different man
I play cross harp, and I play guitar with the local band
A sad, sad story, true it is, but I've got no other one to tell
And this is how it is, and this is how it goes
And it's a slow walk…
Henry James, last time we spoke
You were walking this floor, up and down
Staring at the train, that's taking her away
Into your heart, and nothing more