Wet is my whistle
Wandering wayward
Trouser is caught in a thorny bramble
Sun soon be slipping
Down spire of meadow
Swamp candle flower
A watery fellow
The monarch my right hand
Left is the sparrow
Twilight blue my bone and marrow
The river’s path is old and narrow
First evening star
To comfort the scarecrow
Pull me up by the roots of my hair
Into the rosy atmosphere
Pull me up by the roots of my hair
Into the rosy atmosphere
Marveling over dead branches
Wind in the grasses
I cannot take this anymo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-ore Saying everything I've said befo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-ore All these words they make…
(Hey, you're really crazy... You know that?) I thought that I was calling up my…
I've been sucking morning Waiting for the beat I've been running circles Searching for the…