| Your eyes are flat, the city’s hot
|
| Night falls over the barren system
|
| Leave the cracked city block
|
| Come back to the old religion
|
| Throw your seed behind the plough
|
| Throw your wine in the face of nothing
|
| Feel the sea anemone
|
| Children play in the rockery garden
|
| We’re all John Barleycorn
|
| We’re all one in the old religion
|
| Meet me by the waving rye
|
| The question mark in the scarecrow’s eye
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| Gaelic runes and harvest moons
|
| Shinto dogs at the phallic symbol
|
| Mustard seed and dandelion
|
| A time to live, a time to die
|
| Meet me in the waving leaves
|
| The question mark in the scarecrow summer
|
| Meet me out by the lemon trees
|
| Pull me down, and pump me dry
|
| Lie back now and think of rain
|
| In the blossom of the willow
|
| Mastering the morning pain
|
| Gorgeous on your petal pillow
|
| Mustard seed and dandelion
|
| Treading wine for the old religion
|
| The high priest and the artisan
|
| Piping at the gates of knowledge
|
| Saturnine as the hammer god
|
| Hammering, getting it on
|
| Meet me by the waving rye
|
| The question mark in the scarecrow’s eye
|
| Gaelic runes and harvest moons
|
| Shinto dogs at the phallic symbol
|
| Mustard seed and dandelion
|
| A time to live, a time to die
|
| Meet me in the waving summer
|
| The question mark in the scarecrow’s eye
|
| Making out by the rhodedendron
|
| Pull me down, and pump me dry
|
| Lie back now and think of sorrow
|
| The question mark in the scarecrow’s eye
|
| Mustard seed and dandelion
|
| A time to live, a time to die
|
| Meet me in the waving leaves
|
| The question mark in the scarecrow’s eye |