All the Way

All the way from Baltimore to Boston

There were buildings at attention by roads and alleyways

All that day the clouds hung like crepe paper

Strewn across the sky for soldiers who'd been far away

But we were not soldiers and we had not been so far

To justify parades or cheering crowds, none of those things

On the wall there hung a piece of paper

In a frame with a name in gold leaf display

On the way to work each day the name got filled

With questions that simply would not go away

Work and back to home again

Work and back to home again

Is this all there is?

Is there something else?

Just anything

Out along the side of some lost highway

You might find you pass yourself

Would you think you're worth the effort?

Would you stop and help yourself?

Would you stop and help yourself?

All the way from Baltimore to Boston

There were buildings at attention by roads and alleyways

All that day the clouds hung like crepe paper

Strewn across the sky for soldiers who'd been far away