Weird People

Weird people on the paper
Where are you heading?
Put a cup in my hand
We’ll travel and you will see
They gathered under the shades of dawn
But all that’s left is the ghost
And the little child’s on her own
Where have we been the most of the time
Come child, no need to rush now
Stay a while
No need to hide your feelings 'cause it’s alright now
All the rivers are drying out