Once it seemed there would always be a time for everything. Ages passed I
Hope everybody’s ringing on their own bell, this fine morning. Hope everyone’s connected to
And ride with us young bonny lass — with the angels of the night.
Well, I saw a bird today — flying from a bush and the wind
My Sunday feeling is coming on over me. My Sunday feeling is coming on
Sitting on the park bench — eyeing little girls with bad intent. Snot is
Walking through forests of palm tree apartments — scoff at the monkeys who live
The old Rocker wore his hair too long, wore his trouser cuffs too tight.
Well the dawn was coming, heard him ringing on my bell. He said, „My