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 passionate 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"