Дымим утром, ушли с большой перемены, Упали в мягкие ворсы, чую нутром, Hо будут проблемы, давай на азбуке Морзе. Ведь у меня есть шалфей, а у тебя
: Are you going to Scarborough Fair? Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme Remember me to one who lives there She once was a true love of mine Tell
: The night sets softly With the hush of falling leaves Casting shivering shadows On the houses through the trees And the light from a street lamp
: I'm sittin' in the railway station Got a ticket for my destination, mmm On a tour of one night stands My suitcase and guitar in hand And every
: Do people have a tendency to dump on you? Does your group have more cavities than theirs? Do all the hippies seem to get the jump on you? Do you
: It's a still life water color Of a now late afternoon As the sun shines through the curtain lace And shadows wash the room And we sit and drink
: Cloudy The sky is gray and white and cloudy Sometimes I think it's hanging down on me And it's a hitchhike a hundred miles I'm a raga-muffin child
: What a dream I had Pressed in organdy Clothed in crinoline Of smoky burgundy Softer than the rain I wandered empty streets Down past the shop
: I been Norman Mailered, Maxwell Taylored I been John O'Hara'd, McNamara'd I been Rolling Stoned and Beatled till I'm blind I been Ayn Randed, nearly
: The last train is nearly due The underground is closing soon And in the dark deserted station Restless in anticipation A man waits in the shadows
: This is the early evening edition of the news. The recent fight in the House of Representatives was over the open housing section of the Civil Rights
: Through the corridors of sleep Past shadows dark and deep My mind dances and leaps in confusion I don't know what is real I can't touch what I
: Slow down, you move too fast You got to make the morning last Just kicking down the cobblestones Looking for fun and feeling groovy Ba da da da
This is the early evening edition of the news. The recent fight in the House of Representatives was over the open housing section of the Civil Rights
I been Norman Mailered, Maxwell Taylored I been John O'Hara'd, McNamara'd I been Rolling Stoned and Beatled till I'm blind I been Ayn Randed, nearly
Cloudy The sky is gray and white and cloudy Sometimes I think it's hanging down on me And it's a hitchhike a hundred miles I'm a raga-muffin child
Through the corridors of sleep Past shadows dark and deep My mind dances and leaps in confusion I don't know what is real I can't touch what I feel
The night sets softly With the hush of falling leaves Casting shivering shadows On the houses through the trees And the light from a street lamp
