i feel like a stranger wand'ring 'round
in my very own very small pretty how towne.
and the church bells are ringing unfamiliar peal
and nothing is real. no nothing's this real.

and it sounds like a summer day down by the lake
when breezes trick and tell us we've made a mistake
and this thing is an ocean and we are surrounded.
and i think i've found it. no. i havent found it.

like mornings make tired eyes appear
and like night makes them clear
and night makes them clear
you, my dear, draw these words.

and like a clean car calls the rain
and dry cheeks call to pain
your back here again.
in my head again, you soft-sing.