flung wide
the salutations
the deep curse
and the shutters close

a spring house
in the making
on good earth
of my many'd souls in my soul
and fears I don't know
I hear there's a march we should go

lost on this road
are there any real Sundays to find?

unbound
on the rising
the pell mell
of the miser kings
as you saw what I'm seeing
oh you'd thaw from the fires
there's pace in your gait
and wake in your straights
I ache from the center out

lost on this road are there any real Sundays to find?
lost on this road are there any real souls?

don't hear what I hear
don't see what I see
don't leave what I must leave behind

lost on this road are there any real Sundays to find?

this stop
I am hunger
the deep well
of a stranger held
and this heart a lonely hunter now

I'm lost on this road are there any real Sundays to find?
I'm lost on this road
are there any real souls?
are there any real souls to find?
are there any real souls to find?