Take out that map. Point with your finger. Where should I linger?
A stream and a dirt track. No roads run between it
They say there's a railway but I've never seen it
It's maybe a ghost town with army boys shooting
Just hillocks and hay bales for lovers recruiting
They say, if you enter, you'll never come out
But that's drunken scare-talk before landlord's last shout
Is it some witchcraft? A bat-blackened lie?
You've never seen it, and neither have I
If it exists, then let's go and find
Or just leave this old superstition behind

Lay it down, lay it down, on the ground
Lay it down, lay it down, up and up
You great green map to who I am, where you are
Lay it out, lay it out on the ground
And roll it with all of its tracks and veins
Point the ring

You walk through a door where no door ever stood you ring your bell
A map to a place of which there is no trace or tale to tell
You stroll through a stream where no stream ever flowed a tree that fell

Let it down, on the ground, let it down
What you felt, let it down, she's gone
We'll both chase you round the face of the springtime morn
And fall by the side to the ground
Lay it down, lay it down, let us know
Spreading the math that you've found
Now you've found yourself here

The village is near and it's always been here, like a whisper of smoke
It fades and regroups like a film on a loop, all the rings through an oak
While the Romans still march, and the wash girls still starch, and the Isles rule

You might get on a train, but you'll never escape
Cause our destination's in here
It's absurd to believe that when you try to leave
The train will just bring you back here

Train, right, out of here
Station master
Stamp collector
Cartographer
Postal worker