Mosby Street

They built a median on Mosby Street
They built a pub where the locals meet
They figure revenues in the feet and mouths
That hang down on John Mosby
Though the church yard has stayed the same since you were seven
They got a new shepherd to lead ‘em all to heaven
Robert quit the job, got married, and left no trace
There’s no one left to remember your face
They’re still shopping at the corner store that sold you soda
The library was torn up. Your friends have gotten older
Home was rented out by a family that don’t know the place
There’s no one left to remember the way you played at your house behind the
wood--
A fortress made of limbs from a tree that stood
A thousand feet over the neighborhood
You don’t visit like you should since you found that well empty
They built a median on Mosby Street