My friend david told me The heart beats like a dream Down there at the railway station The lights are turning green That little blackrobed franciscan priest Struts down to ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Tips his hat at all the north americans And dreams the dream of the argonauts We know the truth of the undeveloped heart Poplars on the seinne and sunset boulevard The noise that can drive a love asunder Sometimes your dreams can leave you under We go climbing down myriad flights of stairs Blowing off the heat and dust Stetch our romantic souls To cover the wunderlust At midnight in some strange city Blackburned and medieval Shiver inside our paper thin raincoats And the silence that knows no evil We know the truth of the undeveloped heart Poplars on the seinne and sunset boulevard The noise that can drive a love asunder Sometimes your dreams can leave you under The heart can be a lonely hunter
seinne, undeveloped, poplar, asunder, dream