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Lonely boy gazing on the afternoon |
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People drifting cross the surface of the twilight day |
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There's a Little Yellow Man, standing by the railway station |
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Painting portraits on the brickwalls of Billie Holloway |
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Lovely Lady S.M.I.L.E. |
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Dance, my dear, I'm only operating on 'Lassie Come Home' |
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'This was authentic you' she spoke, 'this was authentic |
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you who blew me cold' |
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He had no chance to realize, it hit her straight between the eyes |
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So I've been told |
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In the park, she's giving out some photographs |
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on which she's giving out some photos of what she hands around |
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'They videoed a ghost tonight', she said before I turned it out |
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'It rode an orange paper-bike, and left without a sound.' |
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Keep on riding, Sir |
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Open up the door and shout it out: 'Lassie Come Home, |
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Come Home!!' |
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'This was authentic you?' she spoke, 'this was authentic |
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you who blew, who blew me cold' |
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I had no chance to realize, it hit her straight between the eyes |
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So I've been told |
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Lonely Girl dancing in the music-hall |
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Lightning struck her silver starship and turned it into stone |
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And now it's falling all the time into that void beyond her grey eyes |
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Somewhere a telephone is ringing, but nobody's at home |
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'Hello Junkie-Sweetheart, listen now this is your Captain calling: |
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Your Captain is dead.' |
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Keep on riding, Sir, open up the door and shout it out -- |
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shout it out... |
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Lassie come home -- Lassie come home -- Lassie come home |
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Lassie come home... |
