There were too many years Under spells awry As the fortune appears It begins to die So I've come here to wait For the end of it all 'Till I'm gone from
He was a great balloon maker The balloons were never known for speed There's no way that you'll get sweet You asked me to waste some time Come out to
He tried to escape once in a balloon He tried to escape once in a balloon On the foggiest day he decided not to stay The ground below held his life not
I guess I'll take care Of my heart and brain and hair With a soda for the ride Seems to help me all the time Leaving there from you I want you all the
Mornings will be kind to you in the future Never mind the smog that makes your head hurt Darling you could have that grave garden Darling you could finish
I'm Mr. Amateur On the freeway I'm Mr. Amateur With a cupcake And I couldn't fly And I couldn't make where to go So I stood alone with dirty face From
Stone-cutters made them from stones Chosen specially for you and I Who will live inside? The mountaineers gathered timber piled high In which to take
I'm circling around you We're headed for the starlight in the meantime I love your spiral hair That you remove and lay it there around me Sometimes the
Some of them were superstitious Sitting with their backs facing the orchard All of them with mittens on their hands and feet Were waiting there for winter
One gigantic heart Just refused to start And now that the world's behind me I'll lay here quite joyfully We went for a walk To enjoy the day Distracted
I saw Marion about to be swallowed up by the sea Brings both minister and man to marry her Soon you'll come home late and drunk And throw a lantern that
Bring with you, a photograph machine One for Anabel and one for me We're having troubles remembering things So one for Anabel and one for me We walked
They cannot let it expand They cannot let it expand They cannot let it expand They cannot let it They cannot let it expand They cannot let it expand
Oh, it must be over there, see In the tall weeds with his head leaned By an anthill, by some water With a trumpet, lightly sleeps the jungler But I'm
Down to the valley where the fortunes grow Down to the free That gathered holy 'round the fire that grows so well On with the laughter when the work
If all that grows starts to fade, starts to falter Oh, let me inside, let me inside, not to wait Let all that run through the fields, through the quiet
And he sings when he mops Seems to help him a lot Where there's uneven stairs Mr. Landlord is there Well, he mops all day Can't get away too long And
Stonecutters made them from stones Chosen specially for you and I Who will live inside The mountaineers gathered tender Piled high In which to take along
