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There's a small cafe on the outskirts of town. I'll be there when the sun goes down. Where the roadside bends And it twists and turns. Every new generation. And I'll be praying to my higher self. Don't let me down, keep my feet on the ground. There's a roadside jam playin' on the edge of town. In a town called Paradise near the ancient highway. When the train whistle blows All the sadness that Hank Williams knows, And the river flows. Call them pagan streams, and it spins and turns. In a factory in a street called Bread in East Belfast Where Georgie knows best What it's like to be Daniel in the lion's den Got so many friends only most of the time
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