Lyrics
There was a boy who came into this world
At the hands of a holy woman in a holy place
He wore a red coat and walked a bulldog
Saw them reflected in the mirror of the lakes
Lived in the shadow of the mountains
With the smells of disinfectant, dusty old leather
And the polished wood of his bed
No more than a baby feeding swans on the river
Holding the hands of his mother
And the wax paper bag of yesterday's bread
And his father on the other side of the world
On the ships railings and some far away tide
With the silent dry tear of home thoughts from abroad
In his far away eyes
In his far away eyes
The smell of the wax on the wooden floor
Mixture of polish and soap
No children to fear or to play with
Rows of empty hooks for the coats
An upright piano and the boys in the choir
Still remind him of just before he was born
Remind him of just before he was breathing
Strange misty visions of God
Turn the cities into families
Into villages of souls
Hovering in the air while they're sleeping
With their houses invisible
Chase the moon between the buildings
Running as fast as I could run
Send to me the ghosts of Christmas
Whispering, "You're the only one"
And ever since I was a boy
I never felt that I belonged
Like everything they did to me
Was an experiment to see
How I would cope with the illusion
In which direction would I jump
Would I do it all the same
As the actors in the game
Or would I spit it back at them
And not get caught up in their rules
And live according to my own
And not be used, not be used
To find the fundamental truths
It was going to take some time
Thirty five summers down the line
The wisdom of each passing year
Seems to serve only to confuse