(Steve Walsh / Steve Morse / Bob Ezrin) There's tombstone in a snowy field Close by an old ghost town The epitaph's been weather-blown away There's a belltower where petitions peeled It's been half torn down But it must have softened every soul that came to pray
There's a schoolhouse full of broken glass And wounded walls The rusty swings like derelicts sleeping in the weeds There's a picture-graduation class Staring down deserted halls THE HOPE OF 44 is what it reads
It's just as if some restless wind blew their dreams away far away It's just as if those dreams had never been but oh- I feel their ghosts around me now- I hear them say They've come back home to dream those dreams again