Found a map of a place that had been erased By some mortar shells 100 years ago And the town had left, and the grass had grown And the great cathedral was scattered stone So I made that stop on a country road In a snowy field, where my headlights shone Upon a great big plaque With some dates and names And a Latin quote about fate and grace But it was too late - a little too late So I sat alone on my panting hood And I breathed and breathed until I felt good About a world that turns in leaps and bounds And builds great cities and flattens towns That could lead me here back to this quiet place A century later to think, and pace And then return home back to my smiling world No wiser, but a little more in awe