| Something’s growing under that wing
|
| I think a face is dawning
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| Oh no the books are growing faces
|
| And you’re lost quite classically
|
| With your nose in a book
|
| And it seems so fitting
|
| And perhaps this is the end we’ve sought after for so long
|
| And perhaps now it’s done
|
| Cause we’ve found all entire dreams
|
| Of men and machines and
|
| Turned them all around our
|
| Indentical hands
|
| Composing our commands
|
| I cut the moon in half
|
| And stuck a piece through my hair
|
| It made the back of my head glow
|
| Golden yellow and then I took
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| Ten stars on sticks and placed them in my small metal
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| Pocket and I gave the other half of the moon to you
|
| Ooh, so you wouldn’t forget me while i’m gone
|
| Cause we found all entire dreams
|
| Of men and machines and
|
| Turned them all around to Enjoy them and benefit ourselves
|
| Our paperback books, our charming looks
|
| Our indentical hands
|
| Composing our commands
|
| And oh my love
|
| We can live on the sun
|
| And wouldn’t we be attractive
|
| Riding in our shiny motor cars
|
| With eyeglasses full of stars
|
| And plenty of paper for scenery paintings
|
| 'cause we found all entire dreams
|
| Of men and machines and
|
| Turned them all around to Enjoy them and benefit ourselves
|
| Our paperback books, our charming looks
|
| Our indentical hands
|
| Composing our commands |