Ancient Fable

He's been going through retired records

And mixed-up laundryana

Couple of fireworks that he never intends to use

Doing the zoot saint rhythm in seven-day weeks

Ah, sun in the eyes

Look past the race peaks

'Cause his punctuation is all confused

He shuffles into the temples and only roots out celebrating

Oh, dry your eyes, wake-up imprint is quickly fading

And he drops at the word on the tip of his tongue

And he drops off to sleep as if he was one

The centеr of night, when he can't come or go

Hе thinks his life to think, but he doesn't even know

So, so, so, he calls up a lightly-broke, really-needed shoe

And he's tangled up inside, where five cents is not six colors are true

So he packs his 'allelujah missions [?], some fruits for the trip

And two great promises that fall in the rain like canceled checks

One for what he's though, and another for what he's been through

With this girl in a movie set special effect

You pinch her for passion and its vocabular'

You can love the preacher, not the guide

And piano, not the player

And when everything has been said

Everybody's just in it for the twenty buck tips and the carnival rides

So, I'm coming over to your house, where, where

Where a party bouquet exception is in the arms of a bride

Here I come

Opening the door, the trash man left his footprints

He'd love to be immortalized, but he doesn't have that kind of time

It's a dog, barks downwind, which cats in an open sewer

Breaking through the difference between "looking at" and "quorum"

But she's sitting on the porch, and something catches her eye

Only to look up at a suitcase, sometimes, at the end of the sky

He'd love to run up to her and say, "Would you share your time?"

But he trips on his words like shoelaces

Maps, maps, all false maps

He opens up the suitcase, almost laughing at the fruit

Here, I think, you know, lies, they go inside

They comfort themselves

A comic book is just a sacrifice

That's saying, "Ours is not to deny"

Awkward, mobile, he sits down

As one might sit on the hood of a car

She opens her shade, a window, a drink

Nothing, nothing is very fun

[vocalizing]