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When he stumbled to his wares |
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At last a penny laugh who awoke |
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In the fourth course of the night |
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Oh when he stumbled to his wares |
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He said: I'll see you in the morning |
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And now the night night night night sails in the morning |
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With his quotas and his bales |
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He called his sister, he called his mother |
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He got his father, he scorned his mother |
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He was what the poor, got a mean mean mean mean |
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You don't die, you don't die, you don't sing sing sing sing |
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You don't utilize, eulogize your pains |
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Though there's a colony in song-oh oh oh oh... |
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Oh, though, though he had |
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l-l-l-l-lot's to do, he pulled a |
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Fly off it's little wing, oh to give the |
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The birch birch back it's swing |
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Oh, though he had |
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l-l-l-l-lot's to do, he pulled the |
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wings off a thousand feathered singing birds oh to give the |
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earth back it's string |
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Oh with his collared whip, with the echoing, with the haunted haunted hundred dollar ship |
|
in the holocade, when they altercate in the motorcade with the shield you shade |
|
Oh de-ar I'm proud of your gains |
|
Now with the collared whip, with the vehicle, when you know you know you know you're full of shit |
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For the love, for the lives, for the black hood it pays you |
|
I'll think off on your gains, Oh oh oh |
|
Oh, though, though he had |
|
l-l-l-l-lot's to do, he pulled a |
|
Fly off it's little wing, oh to give the |
|
The birch birch back it's spring, oh oh oh |
|
Oh, though, though he had |
|
l-l-l-l-lot's to do, he pulled a |
|
Fly off it's little wing, oh to give the |
|
The birch birch back it's spring, when he pulled a |
|
Fly, oh offa little wing, oh to give the |
|
Earth back it's radium swing, oh he pulled a |
|
its a five thousand feathered radium wings oh to give give give |
|
the birch back it's spring, oh he pulled a |
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Flies offa little wing wing wing wing, oh to give the |
|
bir-ch back its swing, oh-oh-uh... |
|
...it's got got to last |
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But the wheat wheat wheat's got got to last |
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London is cold, but the wheat wheat wheat's got got to last |
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When am I going to feel the sting of your sun? |
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I was a singer, I sang on your heart |
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I was a singer and I sang on your home... |
