Из альбома: Songs for a Sunday
Sepia-toned, waiting alone to be sold
Where is the boy, now his precious toy is getting old?
Where are the times, the rosy times of long ago?
Who is this man? Whose are these hands that he holds?
Now all your colours are fading
Through a life of waiting
For someone to come and take you home
"Cheer up," they said, "Paint on a smile and be a clown
And just go to bed, if this wooden life gets you down"
Now all your colours are fading
Through a lifetime waiting
For someone to come and take you home