He's a king, he's a poor boy,na tower in a stream,nsee him standing there so all alonenwell I guess he'll keep standing there,nuntil he's called fornand tomorrows hurricanes have blownnnits his fate through oldnanother story toldnHe found no trust to call his ownnnHis way was lostnhis spirit was the cost,nhe couldn't make up for the loannnBut many brave men are returning,nback to the place where it begannand all our tires are still burning,nwhen the devils faults lay parching in the sandsnand the nightman is waiting at the station,ngathered on the steps one by onenI suggest, that you make a reservation,nbefore all these things are donennupon high the bluesnhis life was filled with painnwhen he heard the newsnhe lost a line in vainnsomeone went for wordnhis house went up in flamesnthey didn't need the smokento show the cops the blamennall your secretsnthey've all been toldnplaying in your Scarlet and your GoldnnHe's a king, he's a poor boy,na tower in a stream,nsee him standing out there so all alonenwell I guess he'll keep standing there,nuntil he's called fornand tomorrows hurricanes have blownnnBut many brave men are returningnback to the place where it begannand our tires are still burningnwhen the devils faults lay parching in the sandsnand the nightman is waiting at the station,ngathered on the steps one by onenI suggest, that you make a reservationnbefore all these things are done n