He's a king, he's a poor boy,
a tower in a stream,
see him standing there so all alone
well I guess he'll keep standing there,
until he's called for
and tomorrows hurricanes have blown
its his fate through old
another story told
He found no trust to call his own
His way was lost
his spirit was the cost,
he couldn't make up for the loan
But many brave men are returning,
back to the place where it began
and all our tires are still burning,
when the devils faults lay parching in the sands
and the nightman is waiting at the station,
gathered on the steps one by one
I suggest, that you make a reservation,
before all these things are done
upon high the blues
his life was filled with pain
when he heard the news
he lost a line in vain
someone went for word
his house went up in flames
they didn't need the smoke
to show the cops the blame
all your secrets
they've all been told
playing in your Scarlet and your Gold
He's a king, he's a poor boy,
a tower in a stream,
see him standing out there so all alone
well I guess he'll keep standing there,
until he's called for
and tomorrows hurricanes have blown
But many brave men are returning
back to the place where it began
and our tires are still burning
when the devils faults lay parching in the sands
and the nightman is waiting at the station,
gathered on the steps one by one
I suggest, that you make a reservation
before all these things are done

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