Mr. Chesty

Through cabinets and cupboards
Closed attics and the like
Down crooked crumbled alleyways
Of cloud covered night
I searched the high, searched the low
Not sure what I’d find
But hoping I would know when comes
Some sort of sign
«A cloud was on the mind of men
And wailing went the weather»
Yes Mr. Chesterton now I’m doing better
«A cloud was on the mind of men…»
Yes Mr. Chesterton now I’m doing better
If I was left a wreck, bent body and soul
The dreams I’ve had, purest gold
So I will hope that what a man hopes for
In the end is really what that man is worth