When the supreme authorities of our culture

Tell us to get down on our knees

And beg for salvation from some divinity

Is it any wonder there are people

Begging on the street for salvation from poverty



Well, it's no surprise to me

It's no surprise to me



I left my home in the church

I left my home in the suburbs to wander

Now I did it all for my dreams

And the star that I followed fell from the periphery

And the street lights

Slipping down my windshield fell like falling stars



Down a dark country road

I first left my home when I was seventeen

And I paid my respects to my fellow rejects

But I tended to wander alone

Like I was listening to the words of a song

Whispered soft and low



Well it's kind of like dancing

It's kind of like losing your mind

And I've often considered

The impractibility of my life

And the moon behind the clouds is ill-defined



Well I got lost so many times

But I could not be consigned

To a fate of obsolescence and decline

So I'll take the chance again

And the Mockingbird is my friend

When he sings a song in the warm midnight wind

So I'll follow my old tune

And I'll wish you good morning