Paper Man had brilliant hands.
He smoked at the corner store
Where the ginger girl
Can't keep her man steady
with pitch black locks.

Every day, in and out
A northern escape to a southern route
Worn thin by pasty toes.
Those cigarettes lit his world on fire.

Peeling away, yellow and aged
Engraving lives between red ended lines
He brought color to the tall tales
Reincarnated beneath Mother's wrinkled eyes

He smoked ignorance, rolled in bliss
With closed eyes between dusted rock
Aged with lies and peeling paint from the windowpanes
With curly blonde esteem, chanting his name
Drifting between salty pines
Never settling for another grain
Of a lesser design.

Paper Man, that was the plan
A scribbling upon burning paper
Ashes to ashes, they all fall down
Never brought to life
Paper Man made a stand.
The floating bark of the lemon tree still whisper his name.