| Day after day alone on the hill,
|
| The man with the foolish grin is keeping perfectly still,
|
| But nobody wants to know him,
|
| They can see that he's just a fool,
|
| And he never gives an answer,
|
| But the fool on the hill
|
| Sees the sun going down,
|
| And the eyes in his head,
|
| See the world spinning around.
|
| Well on his way his head in a cloud,
|
| The man of a thousand voices talking percetly loud.
|
| But nobody ever hears him,
|
| Or the sound he appears to make,
|
| And he never seems to notice,
|
| But the fool on the hill
|
| Sees the sun going down,
|
| And the eyes in his head,
|
| See the world spinning around.
|
| And nobody seems to like him,
|
| They can tell what he wants to do.
|
| And he never shows his feelings,
|
| But the fool on the hill.
|
| Sees the sun going down,
|
| And the eyes in his head,
|
| See the world spinning around.
|
| He never listens to them,
|
| He knows that they are the fools,
|
| He don't like in the fool on the hill
|
| Sees the sun going down,
|
| And the eyes in his head,
|
| See the world spinning around. |