The Beautiful Singer

He’s got one guitar slinged on his shoulder
Over a finely cut shirt in bright blue
He smiles a youthful innocence
With a panting desire for truth

The beautiful singer
Bringing me back to my heart
The beautiful singer
Brings us back home

The road he takes winds its way to the east
And boys to men fall under his spell
Does he gets everything he wants
Because I just can’t seem to tell

Sunday morning has got a charm
On the dining table or sprawled on the living room floor
The feeling passes

Saturday evening comes to dusk
On couches, naive hearts under fluorescent lights
The feeling crosses

The beautiful singer
Bringing me back to my heart
The beautiful singer
Brings us back home

He runs in the cold winter snow
Nothing but thoughts of impending doom
Not knowing how to stop himself
From pills and chills, the future is waiting

The beautiful singer
Bringing me back to my heart
The beautiful singer
Brings us back home

The feeling of home
Let’s all come home

10/13/06