Weather man,
Up in the sky,
Do you float or do you fly?
Gold and grey - you look so strong,
Mighty,
But never there for long.

Weather man,
Towering tall,
A countenance to rule us all,
A slice of hope, a glimmer of heaven,
Angels inside,
Won’t you let down a rope?

Weather man,
In your bed of blue,
May I climb up and be with you?
Wish I could steal a little thunder,
And get out from under,
The might of your hand.

Weather man,
Do you cry?
Silver teardrops tumble by,
Bless us now with one more kiss,
Then strike me down,
As you turn the skies around.

I remember,
The afternoons of make believe and
Music,
Oh how we’d sing and shout!
And I’m wondering,
How long before we’ll all be leaving,
Every time that I’m in your house.

I can hear it,
The symphony of pots and pans and
Father,
As quiet as a mouse,
Please forgive me,
The way that I still clitter clatter,
Every time that I’m in your house.

Guess it’s only,
Another four walls and a staircase,
I know,
It’s time that I got out,
But Mother,
Your voice is in the walls of this place,
Every time that I’m in your house.

I get lost,
On Memory Lane,
That old street,
Always the same,
Every time I’m passing by the place is ageing,
But it takes me back -
In time I travel,
Down that road my mind unravels,
Til I am lost,
On Memory Lane,
Finding myself again.

Too many journeys to remember,
Déjà vu is nothing new,
It could be summer or December,
Though I know where I am,
Guess I never looked hard,
At the back of my hand.

That’s why I’m lost,
On Memory Lane,
Trying to ignite,
Some old flame,
Every time I’m passing by the place keeps ageing,
Oh, but it takes me back -
In time I travel,
Down that road my mind unravels,
Til I am lost,
On Memory Lane,
Just finding myself,
Yeah I’m just finding myself,
I don’t need nobody else,
Gonna go find myself,
Find myself on Memory Lane.

I look at the sun,And I know it’s gonna be one of the days,That takes me right back to when I was young,Dreaming through the summer haze.
When nothing was scary, I could do anything.Loving to cartwheel and dance in the rain,Pulling up daisies to put in a chain,Laughing for hours and rolling down hills,Climbing the trees at the old farmer's mill.
These are the days I remember,These are the days I miss,When young and free was all I had to be,And reality didn't exist.
Stuck on the train riding to work again,Life on a one-way street,My only escape is to pause and replay,Like a memory played on repeat.
When nothing was scary, I could do anything.Loving to cartwheel and dance in the rain,Pulling up daisies to put in a chain,Laughing for hours and rolling down hills,Climbing the trees at the old farmer's mill.
These are the days I remember,These are the days I miss,When young and free was all I had to be,And reality didn't exist.
Take me back to being young,Take me back to being young,Take me back to being young,Take me back to being young.