| Turn and turn
|
| Turn and turn
|
| We’re turning again
|
| Turn and turn
|
| Turn and turn
|
| We’re turning again
|
| They took a whole bunch of acid
|
| So they could see where it’s at
|
| (It's over there, over there
|
| Over there, over there
|
| And under here also)
|
| They lived on a whole bunch of nothing
|
| They thought they looked very good
|
| They’d never ever worry
|
| They were always in a hurry
|
| To convince themselves that what they were
|
| Was really very groovy
|
| Yes, they believed in all the papers
|
| And the magazines that defined their folklore
|
| They could never laugh
|
| At who or what they thought they were
|
| Or even what they thought
|
| They sorta oughta be
|
| They were totally empty
|
| (Totally empty)
|
| And their lives were really useless
|
| So what the fuck?
|
| They didn’t have no sense of humor
|
| Now they got nothing left
|
| To laugh about
|
| Including themselves
|
| Turn and turn
|
| Turn and turn
|
| We’re turning again
|
| Turn and turn
|
| Turn and turn
|
| We’re turning again
|
| They were mellow
|
| They were yellow
|
| They were wearing smelly blankets
|
| They looked like Donovan fans
|
| They walkin' 'round
|
| With stupid flowers
|
| In they hair and everywhere
|
| They tried to stuff 'em up the guns
|
| Of all the cops
|
| And other servants of the law
|
| Who tried to push 'em around
|
| And later mowed 'em down
|
| But they were full of all that shit
|
| That they believed in
|
| So what the fuck?
|
| (What the fuck?)
|
| Now I’ve seen 'em tightenin' up they headbands
|
| On the weekend
|
| And they get loaded
|
| When they came to town
|
| They walked around in Greenwich Village
|
| To buy posters they could hang up
|
| In them smelly little secret
|
| Black light bedrooms
|
| On Long Island
|
| Singin': «Jimi come back!»
|
| Now come back and regulate the boy’s fuzz-tone
|
| Your haze was so purple
|
| It caused your axis to be bold as love
|
| Now Jimi (feed back) gimme some feedback
|
| Come back and feed back on my knapsack
|
| You can feed back the fuzz tone from your wah-wah
|
| While you bend down
|
| And set your stuff on fire
|
| Turn and turn
|
| Turn and turn
|
| We’re turning again
|
| Turn and turn
|
| Turn and turn
|
| We’re turning again
|
| We can turn it around
|
| We can do it again
|
| We can go back in time
|
| Through the canyons of your mind
|
| On the eve of destruction
|
| We can act like we are
|
| Something really special
|
| You just jump in the bath-tub
|
| With that other guy Jim
|
| And make him be more careful
|
| We can visit Big Mama
|
| And wrap her on the back
|
| When she eats her sandwich
|
| (La la la la)
|
| We can take care of Janis
|
| When she gets so depressed
|
| She can’t take it no more
|
| We can laugh at Keith Moon’s jokes
|
| (Ha ha ha ha ha)
|
| And the colour TV
|
| (Ha ha)
|
| He threw out the window
|
| From the second floor
|
| Everybody come back
|
| No one can do it like you used to
|
| If you listen to the radio
|
| And what they play today
|
| You can tell right away:
|
| All those assholes really need you!
|
| Turn and turn
|
| Turn and turn
|
| We’re turning again
|
| Turn and turn
|
| Turn and turn
|
| We’re turning again
|
| Turn and turn
|
| Turn and turn
|
| We’re turning again
|
| Turn and turn
|
| Turn and turn
|
| We’re turning again |