Ways that turn and turn
Which is what we'd learn
As suffering believers
In the book of Badgeman Brown

They're dropping like flies
In a suburban house
From a lack of anything
Anything to keep their hands in
And the town keeps screaming
From a lonely hill
Another lack of people
Those who never will

This is the voice of someone
Calling from a lonely hill
For the hard of hearing
For those who never will

The days will turn and turn
Which is what we'd learn
As average believers
In the book of Badgeman Brown