|
and the ring is golden |
|
and the gate stands open |
|
and the lilies of the valley |
|
and the girl is more than shrewd |
|
and this place is such a scoop |
|
and the crowd looks up |
|
to your marble tower |
|
to the jolts from your silver drum |
|
to the sweets gone sour |
|
you're the perpetrator |
|
you're the escalator and |
|
you're southbound |
|
so southbound |
|
but never coming down |
|
you're a lunaroma |
|
with a gloom diploma |
|
and the crowd stands up |
|
to your marble tower |
|
to the jolts from your silver drum |
|
to the sweets gone sour |
|
to the torch going out |
|
to the song of a lemon flower |
|
to the strong pursuits |
|
time won't listen |
|
time won't listen |
|
time in time will make you listen |
