You can call me a madman, but I'm spoken for You can take my possessions, leaves me an open door
And the city has a way to make you forget About half the stuff you love and things you don't know yet About the space that's left when nobody talks About the quiet on the path where nobody walks
When the road takes me to the other side of the world Let a walnut tree replace me, give my body back to the birds
You can call me a madman, but I'm spoken for Should I blame my profession or should I bless the war?
And the city has a way just to make you forget About half the stuff you love and things you don't know yet About the space that's left when nobody talks About the quiet on the path where nobody walks
When the road takes me to the other side of the world Till the end decides to break me, I will put my hand on the word
