"I pass a million houses,
But there is no place I belong.
All I knew to give you
Was song after song after song.
All the truths I tried to tell you
Were as distant to you as the moon.
Born two-hundred years too late
And two-hundred years too soon.
I'm a child of this age
Locked into the pages of your book. And when I am but dust and clay,
All the children stop to take a look
Will they marvel at the miracles I did perform
And the heights I did aspire
Or will they tear out the pages of a book
To light a fire.
With the rain on my face there is no place I belong."
