I can tell by the way you’re walking That you don’t want company.
So I’ll let you alone, and I’ll let you walk on,
And in your own good time you’ll be
Back where the sun can find you, Under the wise wishing tree.
And with all of us made, we’ll lie under the shade,
And call it the CMG.
And I can tell by the way you’re talking That the past isn’t letting you go.
There’s only so long you can take it all on, And then the wrong’s gotta be on its own.
And when you’re ready to leave it behind you,
You’ll look back, and all that you’ll see
Is the wreckage and rust, that you left in the dust,
On your way to the CMG.
And I can tell by the way you’re listening That you’re still expecting to hear
Your name being called like a summons to all
Who have failed to account for their doubts and their fears…
They can’t add up to much without you,
And so if it were just up to me,
I’d take hold of your hand, saying, “Come, hear the band
Play your song at the CMG.”
I can tell by the way you’re searching For something you can’t even name,
That you haven’t been able, to come to the table;
Just simply glad that you came.
And when you feel like this, try to imagine That we’re all like frail boats on the sea
Just scanning the night for that great guiding light,
Announcing the CMG.
And I can tell by the way you’re standing With your eyes filling with tears
That it’s habit alone, keeps you turning for home
Even though your home is right here
Where the people who love you are gathered,
Under the wise wishing tree.
May we all be considered, then straight-on, delivered,
Down to the CMG.
‘Cause the people who love you are waiting
And they’ll wait just as long as need be
When we look back and say, “Those were halcyon days!”
We’re talking ‘bout CMG.