Lonely little Norman
With his thirty-dollar dream
A pitchpipe and melody
In the pocket of his jeans
Sunday in the evening, he plays
Baseball in the park
By tossing stars around the moon
Standing in the dark
Life pass by, remember
Back then's back now
Life pass by
You can't hold on
Norman talks to fireflies
And he understands
That they bring him magic
When he holds them in his hand
His letter box is filled with his own
Handwriting, it's true
Messages from everywhere
Perhaps there's one from you?
Heron's Norman's only friend
He lives in St. John's Mill
Since 1967, he's been
Buried on that hill
With his thirty-dollar dream
A pitchpipe and melody
In the pocket of his jeans
Sunday in the evening, he plays
Baseball in the park
By tossing stars around the moon
Standing in the dark
Life pass by, remember
Back then's back now
Life pass by
You can't hold on
Norman talks to fireflies
And he understands
That they bring him magic
When he holds them in his hand
His letter box is filled with his own
Handwriting, it's true
Messages from everywhere
Perhaps there's one from you?
Heron's Norman's only friend
He lives in St. John's Mill
Since 1967, he's been
Buried on that hill
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