Flung wide
The salutations
The deep curse
And the shudders closed
A spring house
In the making
On good earth
Of the many souls
In my soul
And fears I don't know
I hear there's a march
We should go
Lost on this road
Are there any real
Sundays to find?
Unbound
On the rising
The pall mall
Of the miser kings
As you saw
What I'm seeing
You thaw
From the fires
There's pace
In your gait
And wake
In your straits
I ache from the center out
Lost on this road
Are there any real
Sundays to find?
Lost on this road
Are there any real
Souls…
Don't hear what I hear
Don't see what I see
Don't leave what I must
Leave behind
Lost on this road
Are there any real
Sundays to find?
This stop
I am hunger
The deep well
Of a stranger held
And this heart
A lonely hunter now
I'm lost on this road
Are there any real
Sundays to find?
I'm lost on this road
Are there any real
Souls…
Are there any real souls
To find?