And as a young boy, you were just and older man. You're the cold chill left in Southern sand. You're a young mind, old head in disarray. And please God, pleade no Novocain. Calm down you know you've got to breathe in. And they speak in etéreo voices. Far away from home with no return adress. You're a letter never opened and never read. And as a grown man, you sang songs of foreign lands. Of Holy Ghosts in search of new golden coasts. Calm down you know you've got to breathe in. And they speak in etéreo voices. Far away from home with no return adress. You're a letter never opened and never read.