The lost and found is back in my hometown.   Where a universe of sound amounts to dust on a shelf.   In a psychedelic hell souls pass by but cannot be held   One drink from the well romances all that falling out.      Bloody Mary in the ground, back in my hometown   Under a mountain of doubt built up to settle down   Across the canal, the iron roads are running parallel   Toy wooden horses and summertime soldiers burning on that carousel.      I heard through the grapevine that you were beautiful at the bar last night.   I hope you had a great time blushing while you bled red wine.