Recession a perfect fit
Makes no difference where he sits
Not since they cut the ties
Put some sadness in his eye

Promises come and go
Soak the sun in drifts of snow
A qualified butt-collector
Working for the private sector

He's seen them go
Without a trace
This could be it
The perfect place

They took the plans from up my sleeve
By an architect, on New Years Eve
There it goes, a new bronze tower
Washed away with an April shower

He's seen them go
Without a trace
This could be it
The perfect place

But when you've gone
I'm still here the only one
My eyes and my ears
Will be here 'til I'm gone
And it's still the perfect place
To rest a tired and weary face
And it's still the perfect place
To lose your soul with a trace
A lived-in face with a root
Of matted hair, a smiling tooth
A dirty hand he picks his nose
Scratches underneath his clothes

He's seen them go
Without a trace
This could be it
The perfect place
He's seen them go
Without a trace
This must be it ...