Lyrics

The little boy with one sad eye...one sad eye.
And one tempered and already looking...like a man's

On a summer's dawn, what did he see?
Did the day look the same, for him as for me?

On an autumn night when the house fell cold,
did he dream like me of getting free, without getting old?

I don't know...I didn't know him in those days.
I don't know...he sees things so many ways...
But he's still got one sad eye and when it's fixed on me...
I can almost see his world...
the way it used to be.

I looked out of my car window.
It was a painting done by someone my mother used to know.

On our wall, it had hung askew.
Thirty years ago, now it seems renewed

In our home, the paintings never hung square.
In our home, the floors were sloping here and there
And I still nudge the perfect things,
when they pass by me...
so I can almost have my world...
the way it used to be.

I've been trying to make sense of consequence...
and it's like trying to re-animate bone
Or dead-heading roses in a field of landmines...
some things should be just left alone

But in your home,
it seems the days go by just right
I don't know,
I also kind of like the nights

And with sad eyes and things askew,
I think it's gonna work with you
And the world is so much better...
So much better than the way it used to be.