When I come to see you, what will I bring
The wisdom of a poet, the colour of a dream
And I leave with three roses made from a magazine
More beautiful to me than any flowers in the stream
And I feel the summer turn into fall
And anything made of paper that's all, that's all
In the shadows of religion
Some think we find the truth
But innocence is stricken
Without an ounce of proof
While the wheels of injustice
Can turn mighty fast
Another blood moon of October will silently pass
With words of love in a telephone call
And anything made of paper, that's all
Anything made of paper, that's all
In the inside world where bitterness grows
And late at night on an angel's wing
You hold on till tomorrow
To see what it may bring
Any news, no matter how small
And anything made of paper, that's all
That's all, that's all
Anything made of paper, that's all
That's all, that's all
Anything made of paper
Anything made of paper, that's all
