can call me if you want, But I don't know if I'll pick up the phone I cut that photo from a Marxist magazine, And I took my pens and added yellow, blue and green
the phone, who is it? Someone has come to visit Everybody do the hokey pokey, do the crackhouse blues! Do the mashed potato till your feet glow green
of knowing If I'm coming or going I need something to chain me down But it don't matter My eyes have seen... For better Out of blue comes green Mother
It's a beautiful day here in your garden With the sun so high all the birds sing out a song or two for you (what a wonderful sound) And the warmth of
becomes too much There's nothing I can say Or I can touch But the glory is, as it comes passing through, I know I will be there When green eyes turn blue
Green leaf, green leaf Are you scared When the wild storms blow? When you look out Over the thunder Do you ever want to go Over the world on a Wild green
Look for me to climb fallen trees in yellow summer look for me in wide falling fields of bohemia all awake with a heavy hand holding me down I stay
I'm afraid of a sure thing of a change in the here and now and the force when it hits me the full weight of it when I'm down The fucking air in the
The fathers torment the one son it falls on across warm deep oceans of moments and the man he must become A whole world away eighteen brothers holding
I could settle down then take it slow do the right thing and gain twenty pounds before next spring when senses are dull and I hear the rain will fall
Though the sign says "Monterey: forty light years from right here, " We'll go anyway got a head start on the clouds as the view, dream-like, rolls away
calm You must get down I'm already down with the whole event held within your head like old valentines, just when do you start to fake a love for jazz and blue green
You held out and hurt yourself again did i not make it clear to look around my selfish queer with unlit eyes and average dope you're in the dream room
i felt the break and roll of the nexus on a day when the whole world elected to sell us out there are the hands that grab my attention when all is
We never thought that you were gone until we turned the lights on and spoke to your god but he ain't saying nothing, except for some thing about your
A worn old suitcase so what if it's broken, hopeless a little odd in a splash of autumn on drugs, holding all weight for me the weight of me and i
Blue sky it?s a bad lie it?s a cheap high it?s a fake cry it?s a small town with a big frown and I never want to hear it again well he drank wine and
never gonna step foot in her house again? She says it don?t come easy; There ain?t no luck for free But there?s nothing left around here But a pale blue