Robert was a poet in a way you can describe
searching all the trashcans in the corner of his mind
leaving all the memories of what he had inside
now he's a wandering in heaven all the timeRobert was a hobo, living with the word
every dime and more than just a payment from the dirt
spending all his days without a balance on the line
now he's a wandering in heaven all the timeAlthough he's not the same to you, the wrong, it can be right
now I see that life is just the only way to die
And though he may not look to you a keeper of the mind
All you did, was keeping him insideRobert was a prophet, with a blade upon his shoes
The smile upon his face, never payed a single due
Though he was no god of any kind, his water turned to wine
now he's a wandering in heaven all the timeAlthough he's not the same to you, the wrong, it can be right
now I see that life is just the only way to die
And though he may not look to you a keeper of the mind
All you did, was keeping him insideRobert was a loner, with every word on set
All the curtains closed before he got himself to bed
No window never opened up to see the light
now he's a wandering in heaven all the timeAlthough he's not the same to you, the wrong, it can be right
now I see that life is just the only way to die
And though he may not look to you a keeper of the mind
All you did, was keeping him insideAll you did, was keeping him inside
All you did, was keeping you inside
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