There is this old woman She lives down the road You can often find her Kneeling inside of her hole And I often ask her Are you looking for the mother lode? Huh? No. No my child, this is not my desire And then she said
I'm digging for fire
There is this old man Who spent so much of his life sleeping That he is able to keep awake for the rest of his years He resides On a beach In a town Where I am going to live And I often ask him Are you looking for the mother lode? Huh? No. No my child, this is not my desire And then he said