The winter trees stand naked. It’s almost dark.
One may walks slowly, alone in the park.
His mind is full of visions only he can see,
And Lord, Lord, Lord, he sure looks a lot like me.

One Believer
That’s all he’s praying for.
One Believer
To open just one door.

He goes down by the lake. It’s solid ice.
Pigeons gather round, he throws them some rice.
He’s got a [bad word] technicolor through his mind.
He sees his name in lights and damned if it ain’t the same as mine.

He goes back to his room. He writes a bit.
He’s sure as always, this one will be a hit.
He switches of the lamp so his loneliness won’t show,
And that prayer inside his head, that’s one I know.

One Believer
That’s all he’s praying for.
One Believer
To open just one door.