Lyrics
maybe God's like a wall of old found photographs tacked up side by side dog-eared mementos of a hundred strangers' glories, pains and prides thrown together in a diary of a life that no one's ever really known sympathize with a face or recognize a place and this dream-life suddenly becomes your ownwhere your father never met your mother or instead of you they had some other kid who scuffed his hands and knees on a different living room carpet 'til he learned to walk and then he learned to fly and he flew away into the swirling sky to seek his own Anywhere-End-Up Streetperhaps this bouncing baby will become this burly bearded manor might he have been the baby's great-grandfather? subtle implications of rivalry and relation every different order you put them in becomes another life that might have been sympathize with a face or recognize a placeand this dream-life suddenly becomes your ownwhere your father never met your mother or instead of you they had some other kid who scuffed his hands and knees on a different living room carpet 'til he learned to walk and then he learned to fly and he flew away into the swirling sky to seek his own Anywhere-End-Up Streetthere's a flicker of flame across the photographs, his wings are burning, burningit's not regret or bitterness it's just a sense of awe, I guess that me or anyone I've ever kissed even exists what terror and what bliss this is how we learn to walk and then we learn to fly and we fly away into the swirling sky to seek our own Anywhere-End-Up Street
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