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There's a light at the end where I know,
where culprits on carpets make sense of it all
and the sky is all indigo,
and the young ones just want to go home.

And the edge of the world makes it seem,
that everyone gone is still singing the same song
and I can believe in these things;
That everyone's singing along,
the good the bad and the gone.

There's a light at the end of a dock,
sending green little postcards to a city I love so much,
and the water makes sense of her laugh,
and wrinkles the backs of my hands.

There's a light at the end where I smoke,
and my name puffs in colors with people I know.
The song that was stuck in her head,
becomes all the words you forget,
yet everyone is singing along,
the good and the bad and the gone.

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