| So many fly above my head
|
| I sighed see angry
|
| So many fly above his head
|
| He says, we always have these stars
|
| Some street they’re in
|
| My street street, now sold
|
| My street street, now mine
|
| Street street, now
|
| Street street
|
| So many fly above my sighs
|
| He sighs, we always have these stars
|
| Some street, my human part is
|
| So many fly above your head
|
| I sighed, see them, be them
|
| He sighed, such things are human
|
| So many fly above my head
|
| I sense the angry part
|
| He sighed, such things they leave their pits
|
| Pick my feet up proudly, said he,
|
| I have sighed, Less of these
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| Lonesome youngest, lonely, just a plea
|
| Pick my feet up proudly, said he,
|
| I have sighed
|
| I have sighed, sighed, sighed
|
| He said, he said, he said |