Mad Hatter’s Song The Incredible String Band

Oh seekers of spring how could you not find contentment
In a time of riddling reasons in this land of the blind
By the joke of fate alone
It's sure that as the loved hand leaves you
You clutch for the slip-stream, the realness to find

But do what you like, do what you like, do what you like
Do what you like, do what you like, do what you can
Do what you can, live till you die
My poor little man
For Jesus will stretch out his hand no more

But in the south there's many a waving tree;
Oh would that musky fingers move your pain;
In the warm south winds the lost flowers bloom again

And if you cried, you know you'd fill a lake with tears
Still wouldn't turn back the years
Since the city has took you
Mad Hatter is on my mind

So sad, sad to see the way it grew
Those other people that I knew
That have either fell or faltered
Mad Hatter is on my mind