Random Blues

 

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