The Busker
Harrowman
Nostalgia hits like a train
Stumbling through my old haunts
Still searching for what I want
Warm sun lulls me to sleep
Each day passes like the last
Pipe dreams wash away so fast
Softly, slowly
I’m losing track
Fiction or fact
So wind this tape flat
Burn it
I’m not coming back
Hard case my resting place
Two soles that are roaming free
No kingdom here do I see
Circles they fall from my hand
The only change I ever attain
Hey man play that song again
Hey dude play that song again
Softly, slowly