Written by: David Byrne

He was real he felt the feel
He died, as all great ones do
He lived a life of remorse
For all he said he would prove

He came into this world so strong
And lived with enthusiasm
But then the years followed him
And wore him down in his skin

He said he would roam, until he found his home
He promised he would be, the best a man can see

He walked about the world; he looked for his soul, the one that was free
But he couldn’t find it, he searched forlorn, as much as he tried, he couldn’t confide
And then he just died.