Weird People

Weird people on the paper

Where are you heading?

Put a cup in my hand

We'll travel and you will see

They gathered under the shades of dawn

But all that's left is the ghost

And the little child's on her own

Where have we been the most of the time

Come child, no need to rush now

Stay a while

No need to hide your feelings 'cause it's alright now

All the rivers are drying out