Mosby Street - Sundials

They built a median on Mosby Street

They built a pub where the locals meet

They figure revenues in the feet and mouths

That hang down on John Mosby

Though the church yard has stayed the same since you were seven

They got a new shepherd to lead ‘em all to heaven

Robert quit the job, got married, and left no trace

There’s no one left to remember your face

They’re still shopping at the corner store that sold you soda

The library was torn up.

Your friends have gotten older

Home was rented out by a family that don’t know the place

There’s no one left to remember the way you played at your house behind the

wood--

A fortress made of limbs from a tree that stood

A thousand feet over the neighborhood

You don’t visit like you should since you found that well empty

They built a median on Mosby Street