03 - Painting Box (The 5000 Spirits Or The Layers Of The Onion 1967)
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When the morning of your eyes comes waking through my shadows Leaving just a trace of twilight sleep I whisper to the baby raindrops playing on my window And tell them gently this is not the time that they should weep
For somewhere in my mind there is a painting box I have every color there, it's true Just lately when I look inside my painting box I seem to pick the colors of you
My Friday evening's footsteps plodding dully through this black town Are far away now from the world that I'm in My eyes are listening to some sounds that I think just might be springtime With daffodils between my toes I'm laughing at their whim
And somewhere in my mind there is a painting box I have every color there, it's true Just lately when I look inside my painting box I seem to pick the colors of you
Oh, somewhere in my mind there is a painting box I have every color there, it's true Just lately when I look inside my painting box I seem to pick the colors of you
The purple sail above me catches all the strength of summer Fishes stop and ask me where I am bound I smile and shake my head and say my little ship is sinking But I kind of like the sea that I'm on and I don't mind if I do drown
And somewhere in my mind there is a painting box I have every color there, it's true Just lately when I look inside my painting box I seem to pick the colors of you.