If first will be last and the last will be first
There's no wait in line for the salt of the earth
And that's what you'd find in the hills of Stonehurst
Everything reminds you of something
Hills slowly rising beneath rows of homes
Signs pointing one way said more than you had known
A vaguely familiar voice ask where you've gone
Everything reminds you of something
Windblown leaves scatter across the school yard
No nets in the rims on the basketball court
A paperboy pushing an old grocery cart
Gray skies make it seem like a black and white postcard
They tore down the bridge like they tore up the tracks
Treasure your memories you'll never go back
Cracks in the sidewalk an aging road map
Everything reminds you of something