He will paint the light and shades. The colours and the trees. He will climb the steepest hill. Believing what he sees. He will lay down on the ground.
An old man once said. When the war is over we would be free. He said that we'd have to drive. Those Nazis back to Germany. His vote in the post-war years.
Over there, just beneath the moon. There's a man with a burden to keep.. Now sleep will fall washout rags n' paper bags.. Homes and lives passing by..