The sweet pretty things are in bed now of course. The city fathers they're trying to endorse. The reincarnation of Paul Revere's horse. But the town has no need to be nervous The ghost of Belle Sta
Hey, look yonder, tell me what's that you see. Marching to the fields of Concord?. Looks like Handsome Johnny with a musket in his hand. Marching to the Concord war, hey, marching to the Concord wa
In the dawning, wakening hour. He'll lift his head and brush his eyes with gentle strokes. That will only blindly mislead him. Into the first day of creation which he only sees in limitation. . N
Eleanor Rigby picks up her rice in a church. Where a wedding has been, lives in a dream. Sits by her window, wearing a paste. That she keeps in a jar by the door, who is it for?. . All those lone
Nobody feels any pain. Tonight as I stand inside the rain. Everybody knows that baby's got new clothes. Lately I see her ribbons and her bows. And the problems from her curls. . Ah, she takes ju
Let the river rock you like a cradle. Climb to the treetops, child, if you're able. Let your hands tie a knot across the table. Come and touch the things you cannot feel. . And close your fingert