The World According To Lionel

In The Long Run

She writes him a letter to see how he's doing
She's stopped up for words
on her pen she keeps chewing
The light from her window blows through her greying hair
The pen on the page is the proof that she still does care
'cause in the long run the stories told
In the long run the young grow very very old

He sits in the park in the dark by his favorite tree
His mind is all lost in the haze of how things used to be
She carried him so far but just had to let him go
He wanted one more chance to at least let her know
That in the long run the heat grows cold
In the long run the young grow very very old

He doesn't do much now, just sit by the window light
His hair is so long and his unshaven face so white
His heart feels apart of the breeze that is blowing outside
It's a soft kind of magic around him at most times
'cause in the long run the stories told
In the long run the young grow very very old

She walks in the moring it's best before seven
It's that time of day she feels closest to heaven
His concience keeps saying something saying
something out loud
Songs from her childhood
that suddenly just came around
Yeah in the long run the farm got sold
In the long run the young grow very very old

He's ready to go now, he's done with his living
He's gone where he's going, he's gave what he's giving
The thousand and one times he sat before dinner
The thousand and two times the lights growing thinner
'cause in the long run the stories told
In the long run the young grow very very old