believe the name is Caulfield
phony from the start
highly ridiculed
falling apart
no desire to be schooled
has an aching lonesome heart

running from school
ducks, where do they go
looking more like a fool
questioning what ducks do, I don’t know
well you’re certainly not cool
heck should I know about ducks, you weirdo

wandering mind
open streets
walking blind
tons of money for keeps
questioning who’s kind
needing a friend not love between the sheets

feeling insecure without his prized possession
that one red hunting hat
without it he’s left in depression
placed on his head he’s as stealthy as a cat
always trying to avoid growing up and nothing to question
that red hunting hat, a memento to a brat

visit to the museum with little old Phoebe
nothing better to do after the opera show
reminiscing on the unchanged, possibly looking for Hebe
always envying them for they do not have to grow
oh if only your innocence could be saved dear Phoebe
all that is known is cruel filled with sorrow

step after step losing consciousness, losing control
drowning in despair
want to be saved in order to stay on patrol
struggling with a need to grasp some air
all to save the innocence near the edge from corrupted parol
give it up, nothing’s left for you there

try to run far with all your might but you will fall
there’s no escaping what you fear most
each way you turn there enclosing you a white wall
tell the world how you are lost
can’t save the children in that field at all
no sir, everything, all of it comes with a cost

no longer can you run from the inevitable truths you fear
it has all finally caught up to you and left you mad my dear