I choose my eyes wide open and my heart half-broken everytime over the gilded golden shackle and the reassuring sentimental lie. I've seen the rolling meadows and the cruelest ghettos in this town. I know the baker and the undertaker and the girl with the stars on her gown.
But the song that sounds the best to me is the of the maple tree.
That river bends in through the sea. Its course is fixed and so are we, it seems.
But I've got sunshine, sunshine all over me. And brown eyes, blue skies are all I see.
I do not care to offer any commentary on the world. I only sing for the pleasure and for a certain sentimental girl. I did not come to establish any new worlds up somewhere up in the clouds. I just want to make love in the morning, work 'til evening, and then watch the sun go down
over the aimless and upward climb, the hidden hand, and searching vine.
This river bends into the sea. Its course is fixed and so are we, it seems.
But I've got sunshine, sunshine all over me. And brown eyes, blue skies are all I see.
And the strangest food, it grows from the ledge. My friends, my friends, go near to the edge.
But I've got sunshine, sunshine all over me. And brown eyes, blue skies are all I see.
But I've got sunshine, sunshine all over me. And brown eyes, blue skies are all I see.
Those who are mining for gold get prematurely old trying not to disappear. But I'm just a ditchdigger. When I'm gone, forget that I was here.