Willy is my child, he is my father. I would be his lady all my life. He says he'd love to live with me. But for an ancient injury. That has not healed.
Why do fools fall in love?. Why do birds sing so gay. And lovers await the break of day. Why do they fall in love. Why does the rain fall from up above.
Tomorrow is Sunday. Now there's only one day left to go. Till you walk by. Below my window. The weekends drive me mad. Holidays are oh too sad. 'Cause you don't go.
You want to make Van Goghs?. Raise 'em up like sheep. Make 'em out of Eskimos. And women if you please. Make 'em nice and normal. Make 'em nice and neat.
Varnished weeds in window jars. Tarnished beads on tapestries. Kept in satin boxes are. Reflections of love's memories. Letters from across the seas. Roses dipped in sealing wax.
Because Elvis gave 'em cars. You think I'm cheap. And you're hard done by. Look-you live here like a star. Rent free suite. Big blue pool that you sun by.
I picked the morning paper off the floor. It was full of other people's little wars. Wouldn't they like their peace. Don't we get bored. And we call for the three great stimulants.
Study war no more. Lay down your arms. Study war no more. Lay 'em down, lay 'em down now. Study war no more. Lay down your arms. Study war no more. Newsreels rattle the Nazi dread--.
Let me speak. Let me spit out my bitterness. Born of grief and nights without sleep. And festering flesh. Do you have eyes?. Can you see like mankind sees?.
This is the reoccurring dream. Born in the dreary gap between. What we have now. And what we wish we could have. More fulfilling--and less frustrating!.
PENANCE CRANE:. The pirate anchored on a Wednesday. And why he came to port I wonder. To see a lady so my friends say. She dances for the sailors. In a smoky cabaret bar underground.
I want to paint a picture. Botticelli style. Instead of Venus on a clam. I'd paint this flower child. "You are the air my flowers breathe". He calls, and the ladies turn around.
And so once again. My dear Johnny my dear friend. And so once again you are fightin' us all. And when I ask you why. You raise your sticks and cry, and I fall.
I'm down to a roll of dimes. I'm stalking the slot that's hot. I keep hearing bells all around me. Jingling in the lucky jackpots. They keep you tantalized.
Peridots and periwinkle blue medallions. Gilded galleons spilled across the ocean floor. Treasure somewhere in the sea and he will find where. Never mind their questions there's no answer for.
I met a young soldier. He said his name was Killer Kyle. He was shakin' all over. Like a night-frightened child. This is his story. It's a tough one for me to sing.
You could have been more. Than a name on the door. On the thirty-third floor in the air. More than a credit card. Swimming pool in the backyard. While you still have the time.
Front rooms. Back rooms. Slide into tables. Crowd into bathrooms. Joke around. Cheap talk. Deep talk. Talk, talk, talk around the clock. Crawl home. Lie down.
She pulls the shade, it's just another. Sunny Sunday. She dodges the light like Blanche DuBois. Bright colors fade away on such a sunny Sunday. She waits for the night to fall.
A strange boy is weaving. A course of grace and havoc. On a yellow skateboard. Thru midday sidewalk traffic. Just when I think he's foolish and childish.