Patrick Marshall - Camelot lyrics

In hot wing bars with movie stars in framed reverence, sit worry free, youthful souls, The Untouchables they call themselves, think to themselves, hope to God when they're alone. Barrels of dreams, backpacks, and streams of maps of Europe and Yellowstone Park litter their fresh minds. Boys in the skin of men and girls with women's curls and curves and appetites laugh and flirt, skirt the real world for a facelifted one, a world of dimly unlit c**aine lounges, perfect complexions, teeth without tabacco stains, of millions made to spend and chance meetings that might lead, no flow, no twist, twist into a tryst of moonlight, soft kisses, and great s**. And Yellowstone awaits, off to the Big Sky and clean air, while the world sits in disrepair, the backpacks - they're still there, full of music daddy once heard live and sculpture in Florence that will never die. "Why, where have you gone Joe Dimaggio?" To the Rockies, I suppose- where life is less confusing, ping pong still amusing, and the world an ocean, a mountain top, a lifetime away.