The Granite Countertops - Wagons and Boys Lyrics

The wagon with the boy on top
He rides the downhill service
Shooting his pockets in faraway places
Taking up spaces

The boy in his wagon offers rides
As he slides through first base
In a place far away

Into the wagon, she takes up his offer
No longer the author, is her story told?

Stepping out of the wagon
The takes are abandoned
More riders, more bases, grown old

Parking his wagon, tossing his baseball
Running time in an upset grown cold

Wagons and boys, pulled back and forth toys
Red velvet, the river of not
Give me my blue cloth
I'll wash my own face
And grab the rocker for joy!

Parking his wagon, tossing his baseball
Running time in an upset grown cold

Wagons and boys, pulled back and forth toys
Red velvet, the river of not
Give me my blue cloth
I'll wash my own face
And grab the rocker for joy
Until I find the boy
Until I find the boy
Until I find the boy who stays with me