Well you don't know where I'm goin',
but I sure do know what lays before me.
The path is familiar like a friendly touch,
the buildings that sleep there are warm,
and there is no way of knowing who resides there now.
Maybe the faces of the past, or maybe not,
either way it doesnt matter all that much,
because somehow they got to be like me in more ways,
then I could care to share with anyone of these hazy days.
So don't pay me no nevermind as I travel foreward, and down,
down to the path I know like my lover's skin,
as I look for a dusty ol' inn with some stars as faded as the sign,
in the Town of Regret.

The place, you may know it well,
the name however may escape you like a snake,
does a deep ol' well full of stale water.
The neighbors, they all like to tell tales,
none of them fake, none of them real,
but the one about a guy named Zimmerman,
well that one you could buy with a penny, its so swell.
Now dont forget the old man at the butcher store.
If you bargain, he will give you any meat,
some say its because he lost his shoes,
others say his feet, in the war the world lost.
Though you get that without costs,
the cook, with her twelve children,
well she dont chop cheap,
shes got all them kids with mouths,
and they dont have brooms to sweep.
So after this, the name might be comin' back in now,
just look in the eyes of the sunset,
and remember those nights so ghostly,
that you spent in this,
the Town of Regret.

The windows are all broken,
and the kids have no mits or bats,
so there is nobody that knows who caused the glass to shatter.
The ol' man sitting at the train station has been there since I was born,
and on his collar he has worn,
the same flower of blue that his love gave him.
The gamblers they played it all,
even the names their parents gave them so long ago.
Seems like now they have no hands left to go,
and only a small smile to spread under their glasses.
On late nights, you can find me sitting on a porch,
usually its one by the hill, where the wind passes me,
just like the fingers of my love once did.
But after so many fights, I lost her to the foggy sea,
and theres a kid with his feet hanging off the roof,
he sings to me songs of a sweet child with a warm heart,
the one that was like me before my path was set,
the one that didnt have a hike here,
here in the Town of Regret.