(Verse 1)
Come and see my curios, laid on velvet grey
Things the light has forgotten, things the tide threw away
A key that fits no lock you own, a map of where you've been
A glass eye that is watching you, for a modest tuppence in

(Chorus)
In the cabinet of Caleb Smythe
Where the lonely things contrive
To find a pocket, find a shelf
A little piece of someone else

(Verse 2)
I've a locket with no picture, just a single thread of gold
A story bought and never told, from a sailor growing old
I've a music box that plays a note that always sounds askew
It only plays in minor, like the memory of you

(Chorus)
In the cabinet of Caleb Smythe...

(Bridge)
I do not make these items, I merely hold the space
For objects that have lost their world, and need a hiding place
So take this broken soldier, his battle's long been done
And give him a new battlefield, beneath your morning sun

(Chorus)
In the cabinet of Caleb Smythe...
(Fade out on a repeating, dissonant guitar figure)

