There's a man in the corner
And he's laughing loud, Like a jester or a circus clown
And here we are saying goodbye for the last time
Every generation blames the one before, Our lives a revolving door,
It's a toast farewell, but it's too soon to tell, Where do we go from here?
Please leave a light on for me.
Somehow we find ourselves in places in between,
We could climb the highest mountain, Just to falter at the peak
And this photograph album, Bears my heart on its sleeve
But I keep it locked inside, Let it echo through my sleep.