There is a World hoodled in expectactions There is a mother alone with a child There is a man wearing boots and a cashmir coat With a latch its carefuly combined I am divine of seeing nothing And shaking my down in my shoes My hounds are lone ones and ones in between There ain’t one of us that refused
Everyone is shouting Everyone is screaming Everyone got something to say But I don’t know of things Except the flowers in spring And everybody gotta go some day
There’s a course of scrubbed up virgins There’s a father whos playing it stright There is a man with a game and a book full of names That gets his name as a cause and addicted
Everyone is shouting Everyone is screaming Everyone got something to say Byt I don’t know of things Except that Elvis is King And everybody gotta go someday
Everyone is shouting Everyone is screaming Everyone got something to say But I don’t know of things Except little bird sings And everybody gotta go some day