Well, I keep on thinkin’ 'bout you, Sister Golden Hair surprise,
And I just can’t live without you, can’t you see it in my eyes?
I been one poor correspondent, and I been too, too hard to find,
But it doesn’t mean you ain’t been on my mind.
There was once a country maiden came to London for a trip
And her golden hair was hanging down her back
She was weary of the country so she gave her folks the slip
And her golden hair was hanging down her back
It was once a vivid auburn but her rivals called it red
So she thought she could be happier with another shade instead
And she stole the washing soda and applied it to her head
And her golden hair came streaming down her back.
#&#@% ninja.
Miss Mary Mack Mack Mack
All dressed in black black black
Had silver buttons buttons buttons
All down her back back back
East is east and west is west
And the wrong one I have chose
Let’s go where I’ll keep on wearin’
Those frills and flowers and buttons and bows
Rings and things and buttons and bows
I take my payment, I catch my flight
And don’t wait up for me tonight
(You may find me there)
And you might find me there
North and south and east and west
Out on runway number nine, a big 707’s set to go,
But, I’m stuck here in the grass, where the cold wind blows.
Now, the liquor tasted good, and the women all were fast,
Well, there she goes, my friend, well she’s going down at last.
Hear the mighty engines roar - see the silver bird on high,
She’s away and westward bound - far above the clouds she’ll fly.
Silver Wings
Shining in the sunlight
Roaring engines
Going somewhere in flight…
Up in the air junior birdman
Up in the air upside down
Up in the air junior birdman
Keep your noses off the ground
When you hear the grand announcement
that your wings are made of tin.
Then you know that Junior Birdman,
has turned his box tops in.
For it takes: 5 box tops,
4 bottle bottoms,
3 coupons,
2 wrappers,
and one thin dime!
Poor bird flies up in the air, never getting anywhere
And how much misery can one soul take?
Trying to fly away might have been your first mistake
Poor bird flies up in the air
Never getting anywhere
When we go splittin’ out across the sky,
Somehow we seem to make the buckshot fly, (BLAM!)
Folks keep objectin’ to our passin’ by, (STOMP!)
Man, it is tough to be a bird.
And I dream I’m an eagle
And I dream I can spread my wings
Flying high, high, I’m a bird in the sky
I’m an eagle that rides on the breeze
High, high, what a feeling to fly
Over mountains and forests and seas
And to go anywhere that I please
Butterfly in the sky
I can go twice as high
Just take a look
It’s in a book
A reading rainbow
I can go anywhere
Friends to know
And ways to grow
A reading rainbow
Let’s hear it for the Rainbow Tour
It’s been an incredible success!
We weren’t quite sure, we had a few doubts!
Would Evita win through?
But the answer is yes…
And no!
And yes!
And no!
And yes … and no
Let’s hear it for the Rainbow Tour
It’s been an incredible success!
Even with a turkey that you know will fold
It’ll leave you stranded out in the cold
Love reign o’er me.
On the dry and dusty road
The nights we spend apart alone
I need to get back home to cool cool rain.
I can’t sleep and I lay and I think
The nights are hot and black as ink
Oh God, I need a drink of cool cool rain.
All day I’ve faced the barren waste
Without the taste of water, cool, water
Old Dan and I with throats burned dry
And souls that cry for water, cool, clear, water
The earth is sucked bare by the sun
The empty clouded sky
The dazzling drone of pure heat rings alone
Seeing tears flash dry
On a sailing boat out to sea
Their mouths have all been parched
The salty land drags the life from their glands
February and March
From a year without rain
In the mangrove swamps
Where the python romps
There is peace from twelve till two
Even caribous
Lie around and snooze
For there’s nothing else
To do in Bengal to move
At all is seldom, if ever done
But mad dogs and Englishmen
Go out in the midday sun
Why can’t the English teach their children how to speak?
Norwegians learn Norwegian; the Greeks have taught their Greek.
In France every Frenchman knows his language from “A” to “Zed.”
(The French never care what they do, actually, as long as they pronounce in properly.)
Arabians learn Arabian with the speed of summer lightning.
And Hebrews learn it backwards, which is absolutely frightening.
But use proper English and you’re regarded as a freak.
Why can’t the English,
Why can’t the English learn to speak?
Every gal in Constantinople
Lives in Istanbul, not Constantinople
So if you’ve a date in Constantinople
She’ll be waiting in Istanbul
Even old New York was once New Amsterdam
Why they changed it I can’t say
People just liked it better that way