Down in the valley
In a small, quiet town
The wind rolls lazy
Through broken windchimes
The shops and the stores
Are open but empty
And a few people walk
Down the dusty old streets
The cast of this town
Like Molly the book-keeper
And there’s Fred the horse man
Who’s long lost his horses
There’s Dave, who sits
In front of the rusty bike shop
Smoking cigars and pipes
Reading last year’s paper
And poor Max the banker
Never seen a penny or client
So he sighs behind his desk
And sips welfare coffee
There’s Sally the house-wife
And Vince her old husband
Their minds on their children
Long since left home
The town in the valley
Down, down in the valley
With no name to claim
And so frozen in time
Then one day he came
He came to the town
That had lost his name
The day Drew Morrison came
He wore a trench coat that fell
All the way down to his knee
They wondered, they did, on who he could be
Someone different, they whispered
Different than Vince or Molly or Max
Different than Sally or Dave or Fred
Different than all the things
That the nameless town had
Drew wasn’t rich, and he wasn’t a tourist
He was simply Drew Morrison
Black hair and green eyes
But things were different
And on the day the Drew Morrison came
Everything changed, in the town with no name
And nothing was ever the same
The day Drew Morrison came

Guess Who?