Paula Cole

Paula Cole/Jeremy Lubbock
Spin the globe, stop and start.
Come to a place that's torn apart.
Here's a secret, it's my heart,
Oh well,
It's only...
Broken shutters, whistling wind,
Vultures circling overhead,
Tumbleweeds fl y,
Dust in my eyes,
Guess it's not my feelings crying.
Peeling paint on empty homes,
Where people lived in this town long ago,
Packed their bags, nailed down the door,
To Lonelytown.