Flung highnThe salutationsnThe deep cursenAnd the shudders closednnThe spring housenIn the makingnA good housenOf the many stonesnIn my soulnAnd fears I don't knownI hear there's a marchnWe should gonnlost on this roadnare there any realnSundays to findnnUnveilnOn the risingnThe paramountnOf the eyes of kingsnAs you sawnWhat I'm seeingnYou thawnFrom the firesnnThere's pacenIn your gamenAnd wake nIn you straysnI ache from the center roundsnnLost on this roadnAre there any realnSundays to findnLost on this roadnAre there any realnSoulsnnDon't hear what I hearnDon't see what I seenDon't leave what I mustnLeave behindnnLost on this roadnAre there any realnSundays to findnnThis stopnI am hungernThe deep wellnOf a stranger hellnAnd this heartsnA lonely hunter nownnI'm lost on this roadnAre there any realnSundays to findnnI'm lost on this roadnAre there any realnSoulsnnAre there any real soulsnTo find