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On a mantle made of oakwood |
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There's a photograph from my childhood |
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It was taken in the desert early light |
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I look a lot like a leprechaun |
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With a Mexican vest and a red hippie hat on |
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Maracas in my left hand and stick in my right |
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And there are canyons, there are caverns |
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There are border roadside taverns |
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I am held captive by the big blue sky above me |
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She naps with the |
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TV onI smell the |
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June cut grass from my pappys lawn |
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I play alone in the little room upstairs, hey, hey, hey |
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There are |
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Lincoln logs and cookie tins |
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And colored blocks and wars to win |
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I draw and |
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I dream and beat my drums up there |
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There are circus lights and maple leaves |
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And there are daffodils and dogwood trees |
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And I am held captive by the big blue sky above me, yeah |
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Now the coffee's strong and the fruit's all wrong |
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And my, my wakeup call's for somebody else |
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And now the |
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TV's hoax and neurosis jokes |
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Always keep my laughing at myself |
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I laugh a lot and that's what |
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I doAnd I learn the things that |
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I never knew |
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I see canyons, |
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I see caverns |
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And I see border roadside taverns |
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And I am held captive by the big blue sky above me |
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I'm captive only by the big blue sky |
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I am held captive by the big blue sky above me |
