I was in a place that i could not name I was on my own, lost upon my way To a place i'd never seen before. And the path was long and the moon hung low When i heard a voice on the radio The golden sigh of a broke heart singer. Sometimes the pauper is the poet Sometimes the fool is wise Sometimes the joker seems to know it. He was in a place that he tried to name Just an orphan child in the pouring rain With a heart so old it was made by angels In his tower room writing holy songs That were so beautiful the devil sang along His spirit sored above the weeper Sometimes the blossom breaks it's branches Sometimes the angels cry Sometimes your father is a phantom I didn't know you before they hung you from your halo But somehow i knew you couldn't last for long, save for song. So if you're in a place that you cannot name And you're all alone, lost upon your way To a place you've never seen before If your path seems long and the moon is low You might hear the voice of some holy ghost It's the golden sigh of the broke heart singer Sometimes the silence is not golden.