Hes a king, hes a poor boy, a tower in a stream, see him standing there so all alone well I guess he'll keep standing there, until he's called for and tomorrows hurricanes have blown its his fate through old another story told He found no trust to call his own His way was lost his spirit was the cost, he couldn't make up for the loan But many brave men are returning, back to the place where it began and all our tires are still burning, when the devils faults lay parching in the sands and the nightman is waiting at the station, gathered on the steps one by one I suggest, that you make a reservation, before all these things are done upon high the blues his life was filled with pain when he heard the news he lost a line in vain someone went for word his house went up in flames they didn't need the smoke to show the cops the blame all your secrets they've all been told playing in your Scarlet and your Gold Hes a king, hes a poor boy, a tower in a stream, see him standing out there so all alone well I guess hell keep standing there, until he's called for and tomorrows hurricanes have blown But many brave men are returning back to the place where it began and our tires are still burning when the devils faults lay parching in the sands and the nightman is waiting at the station, gathered on the steps one by one I suggest, that you make a reservation before all these things are done