Goodbye Dreaming Fields

Hungry boy with head hung down
Shabby girl with shabby gown
Should I know your faces? Yes, maybe
You have always been around

I'm a ghost in my hometown
Since they knocked that dancehall down
High in summer once I knew some girls
They are married with kids now

Friday morning, farm about the court
Sow the dreaming fields aflame
Goodbye dreaming fields
(Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye)

Broken doll, you were not made
For this tawdry serenade
Nor your poor tin soldier rusting now
Since it rained on your parade
Should your ragged marching band
Ever dance across this land
Don't forget to wave at your poor old dad
In his castle made of sand

Friday morning, farm about the court
Sow the dreaming fields aflame
Goodbye dreaming fields (goodbye)
Goodbye dreaming fields (goodbye)
Goodbye dreaming fields