I wont cut my beard and I wont change my hair.
It grows like fancy flowers but it grows nowhere.
If I could build my house just like the Trojan horse,
I’d put a statue of myself upon the shelf of course.
Lyric provided by http://www.sortmusic.com
She’s the smoke, she’s dancing fancy pirouettes.
Swan diving off of the deep end of my tragic cigarette.
She’s steam, laughing on the windowpanes.
The never-ending swaying haze,
Lyric provided by http://www.sortmusic.com
oh that ever smiling maze ballet.
Everything’s gone missing. I’ve lost more songs to floods.
I can’t prove this makes any sense but I sure hope that it does.
Perhaps, I was born with the curiosity of old crows.
The piano knows something I don’t know.
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