Eux Autres
down your street
up on that horse I sit so high
oh, the world slips on by
Wendy, we ride it
ride it, you and I
late, through the last entrance of night
on this occasion itâs all right
my mother calls us
calls us
into sight
trees, stripped of leaves, the branches reach
cross the red bricks and concrete
summer it echoes
echoes down your street