First you burned your own house down Then you sold the ashes to the clown Who painted this brow with thunderclouds And pulled flowers out of his mouth Then you grabbed the bouquet and flew From everything that asked to much of you But the future gives birth to both sorrow and mirth It don't matter what you say or do And now, you pray for a dry canteen So you can dare an empty sky to rain Then you shake your fist, you can't resist Does anybody feel your pain? You're alone and you can't go home again They look for you in the leaves of magazines, In picaresque stories, in penny arcade portraits of Lauren Bacall While I look for you in the dye of canceled stamps, In the panic of sirens, in the vanishing kite strings of airplane exhaust But nobody can catch the arsonist