Inside a little house on the corner of a quiet street There is a room kept dimly lit That holds a misplaced invitation Buried in a desk drawer beneath old magazines And the get-well cards a young girl had received Some time ago when all the world seemed so young Long ago Cutting through the tape It was clear to her that she had made a foolish mistake Inside the package was a key accompanied by a note, which read: "My dear daughter, Won't you join me here? I'm waiting for you to arrive I've prepared your room I pray you come soon And I'll comfort you in my arms" The ordinary seems to hide the extraordinary we would find The ordinary seems to hide the extraordinary we would find If we'd open our eyes If we'd open our eyes Oh, why don't you leave? Why do you stay? Who says you can't go home again? Why, follow me Why, I'm right here Why, you should run to the way that is meant to be And now it can be that way again The way that is meant to be is pa**ionate and free For mice and men "My dear daughter, Won't you join me here? I'm waiting for you to arrive I've prepared your room I pray you come soon And I'll comfort you in my arms"