The World's Looking For You

The young autumn bird's singing his song for you,

bringing the color to the leaves

and turning the grass to brown.

He'll be alone for a while,

but don't let it bring you down.

He'll shake the frost off his wings

and sail above the shimmering town.

All those who would look like you

if they were given the chance,

they're standing in the parking lot.

Peering into the foggy windows,

they try too hard not to get caught.

You can hear them stumbling,

wearing the scarf you once bought.

I hear the President's been asking for you,

he'll try to fix all our problems

and ship you off to Spain.

But I've been trying to reach him,

even he doesn't know who to blame.

Now the Spanish Sun beats down

on the American Rain.

There's a handsome stranger at the door for you,

he's got dollar bills in his shoes

and big ideas in his pockets.

A puzzled look on his face,

he asks to see the picture in your locket.

You bury it in your dress,

and he laughs and says "Oh, come off it."

The blind judge would like to see you,

he's got a few dozen complaints,

everyone of them covered in perfume.

He says that he'll let you off easy

with a reminiscent gloom.

The candles outside are burning

a path to your brand new room.

And I was there waiting for you,

with lilies in my bony hands

and a constellation chart.

You came up and went right through me,

a reflection of your own heart.

I won't have to be looking for you,

since we'll never be apart.