| Mountain eyes, peeping out of his head ah Sipping tea, composing in his bed ah A hundred hands working on a musical of old
|
| .c…am…c…am…c.
|
| Debussy and mendelsshon handel and dvorak of old
|
| Child star, protegee of mister gormez
|
| Who said you’d go far
|
| Child star, they do not see just what a precious
|
| Gem you’d be Sad to them watching you
|
| D…(/d10 repeat)…
|
| Fade into in-ah in-ah-visibility
|
| Twelve yeas old, your elvish fingers kiss your
|
| Beethoven hair, the awesome people stare they’re
|
| Unaware of all the angel sounds they see and hear
|
| .c…am…c…am…c…
|
| Debussy and mendelsshon handel and dvorak they hear
|
| Child star, protegee of mister gormez
|
| Who said you’d go far
|
| Child star, and when you died at just thirteen they wept and
|
| Rung their hair
|
| Sad to them mourning you
|
| D…(/d10 repeat)…
|
| When you are there within the flowers and the trees |