He was a clubland caller, he was younger than he felt Settled like a moth down in the east-end Neon belt Well he used to be a believer, ‘til the city got its grip Now if there’s any holiness left, Well he can’t remember it
She was a high-rise butterfly, crashed in ‘92 Into some veiled little suburb that they bulldozed through Where the little fat angels guard the harvest like they should Well its downtown now but it used to be the woods It used to be the woods
And, oh its a lonely little town And oh, its a lonely little tune And if my name is on that list I guess I’ll see you soon
First he heard her voice and then he saw her face She shone just like a crucifix, an instrument of grace And they got on like children, they got a hotel room They got a new religion, a needle and a spoon
And they gave thanks to the heavens, but the devil held their hands And they walked that great divide between Disciples and partisans And the brown and the Bible, they were never quite enough But the life that grew inside her well that felt a bit like love felt a bit like love
And, oh its a lonely little town And oh, its a lonely little tune And if my name is on that list I guess I’ll see you soon And if my name is on that list I guess I’ll see you soon
The seasons are a metronome, the rhythm and the wild The winter took his heart away, the spring it took her child And the honeyed breath of summer is sweet and overgrown But its always autumn sings “its not too late To find your way back home” To find your way back home”
And a bell sometimes reminds them, or the singing in the wind The striking of a match, the smell of Paraffin And some folks are drawn to the flames, and some just want to hide But the lonely are the prettiest of all, they burn from the inside They burn from the inside Yeah, the lonely are the prettiest of all, they burn from the inside