Hes going home. Looks like the sky is burning, his head is turning
At least hes on his way. He will be there before morning,
much explaining, without warning.
He passes the blue lights, relieved they let him go
Why he never got home that night no one will know
There was this song we used to sing. It used to make him happy,
oh it always ended happy. Why cant life just be a song?
Where everyone is in love and the rest is a story untold.