The Door Into Summer

With his fool's gold stacked up all around him From a killing in the market on the war The children left King Midas there as they found him In his counting house where nothing counts but more And he thought he heard the echoes of a penny whistle band And the laughter from a distant caravan And the brightly painted line of circus wagons in the sand Fading through the door into summer With his travel logs of 'maybe next year' places As a trade-in for a name upon the door And he pays for it with years he cannot buy back with his tears As he finds out there's been no one keeping score And he thought he heard the echoes of a penny whistle band And the laughter from a distant caravan And the brightly painted line of circus wagons in the sand Fading through the door into summer Yes, he thought he heard the echoes of a penny whistle band And the laughter from a distant caravan And the brightly painted line of circus wagons in the sand Fading through the door into summer Fading through the door into summer Fading through the door into summer Fading through the door into summer Fading through the door into summer