When he goes walking, on down the road,
His head is high up in the clouds.
He ain't much for talking, or so I'm told,
The friend of mine who can't be found.
But when we turned around, well, there he was,
To our surprise, coming back for us.
Yeah, he don't laugh now, and he don't cry,
Well, I wish he'd stop and wonder why,
He's all hooked up, on a precious thing,
Between a needle point and a rubber string.
But when we turned around, well, there he was,
To our surprise, coming back for us.
The last time we spoke, it had been a year,
He'd lost his mind, so we gave him tears,
Though, we tried our best to do what we could,
For the friend we thought was gone for good.
But when we turned around, well, there he was,
To our surprise, coming back for us.
