He sings along with the choir
Dressed in schoolboy attire
Just a spark to set off a fire
The chorus soars through the night...
So he pores through a record collection
Establishes his connection
He's leading a resurrection
His fingers bleed through the night...
But something inside him feels right
As he trains everyday for the fight
And the onlookers doubt, they can't figure him out
Alone, he continues to write...
And when he marches in, I'll be waiting
But there's no time for celebrating
For the course that he's navigating
Can only end with his life...
But what can I do?
He rides on a white horse along Dreamer's Avenue
And why can't he see?
Without a real job, he will never be free (wait and see...)
And when he comes back, I will be waiting
Among the crowd congregating
They're raining on his parading
And overwhelming his sight
And something inside him's not right
'Cause he spent too long in the fight
The demands pile on even after he's gone
Embarked on a magical flight, embarked on a magical flight, embarked on a magical flight, embarked a magical flight!
