Head on the ground
In the air a pair of feet
Yes, head on the ground
In the air a pair of feet
The Magic Man walks the street
A man of odd and strangest feat
He wrote God an urgent letter
But knew not the right address
Say, he wrote God an urgent letter
But knew not the postal address
He tossed the envelope into the clouds
And said bye-bye to all his stress
The truest bird flies
On the wings of Rumour
Hun, the truest bird flies
On the wings of Rumour
The stoop-side whisper, the wagging tongue
Laced every lane with a layer of humour
Light at the top
Black at the bottom
Hear? Light at the top
Black at the bottom
Spectroscopicaldeligt
Like the hue-fest of autumn
The songs which visit our lips
Are always of the darkest blue
Hun, the songs which visit our lips
Are always of the darkest blue
Laughing through our tears we hit
The threshold of the joyfully true
and then