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...