Virginia says I’ve got to be looking out,
For the little girl wandering in the valley,
Still bringing up water for his sacred cow,
Thinks to herself the grass is greener somehow.

So she took a ride down to Berkeley square,
Where the devil confessed he always played fair,
And I mistook a nightingale for a dream,
With everyone dancing in her cemetery scene.

Up the Alpine path to that room of her own,
Lucy was pretty so put Maud on the phone.
Not sure the mirror still knows how to be,
It’s time to let the nightingale go free.

I made her run like the passion flower fades,
On that one hand of love that the spirit betrays,
Hours keeping watch over her sky from above,
While Heidi feels warm in her grandfather’s love.

She told me once I’d head north of Carolina,
That I’d save the world just to fucking find her.
When the songbird appears by the old wishing tree –
That old dream of you – becomes a new dream of me.