Blue clouds twisted into a funnel
Somewhere far off the thunder roaring
And the fortune teller has fixed her sleepy eyes on my child
Sometimes I climb high up a tree
To let the wind blow in my face
Sometimes I leave my cares lying in piles
Somewhat disturbing is the sound of birds singing
When you know you don't deserve it
You are not here today
And I feel just like an empty eggshell, and
My yoke is heavy
My yoke is heavy
My voice is a little horse
Galloping lost through the woods
Calling your name
It's new to me
But just the same
The earth is an old canvas
Painted over many times
The poet rambles
The world it scrambles
But who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men
Somewhere far off the thunder roaring
And the fortune teller has fixed her sleepy eyes on my child
Sometimes I climb high up a tree
To let the wind blow in my face
Sometimes I leave my cares lying in piles
Somewhat disturbing is the sound of birds singing
When you know you don't deserve it
You are not here today
And I feel just like an empty eggshell, and
My yoke is heavy
My yoke is heavy
My voice is a little horse
Galloping lost through the woods
Calling your name
It's new to me
But just the same
The earth is an old canvas
Painted over many times
The poet rambles
The world it scrambles
But who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men
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