| Song | The Palace Is Golden |
| Artist | Old Man Luedecke |
| Album | My Hands are on Fire and other Love Songs |
| Palace is Golden | |
| The palace is golden and the garden is green, our own food grows in the yard | |
| But we aint’ got no baby to share it with and this is proving hard | |
| Has something in the water made a mess out of me that we ain’t got no baby | |
| Has something in the well made a mess out of me that we ain’t got no child | |
| Well we try and do it right almost every night, every trick and every vitamin we’re told | |
| In golden afternoons we’re like loving spoons, just tell me where the damn things are sold | |
| Has something in the water made a mess out of me that we ain’t got no baby | |
| Has something in the well made a mess out of me that we ain’t got no child | |
| Well we’ve been to the doctor with the cold cold hands, best not to lay those best laid plans | |
| Nothing seems wrong but the hell inside of emptiness and vanished pride | |
| But all the way back home we'll roll, we'll hide our tear stained eyes | |
| Well may all the strollers roll, but empty yet is ours | |
| I’ll make a lullaby so woeful sad, I’ll make the angels weep | |
| The angels that guard our unborn child will cry themselves to sleep | |
| And then with good faith and with glowing heart, I’ll cure your sorrow deep | |
| As I take my song to that cloudy crib and with our baby creep | |
| And all the way back home will roll, we'll wipe our joyful eyes | |
| Well may all the strollers roll but happiest is ours | |
| The palace is golden and the garden is green our own food grows in the yard |
| Palace is Golden | |
| The palace is golden and the garden is green, our own food grows in the yard | |
| But we aint' got no baby to share it with and this is proving hard | |
| Has something in the water made a mess out of me that we ain' t got no baby | |
| Has something in the well made a mess out of me that we ain' t got no child | |
| Well we try and do it right almost every night, every trick and every vitamin we' re told | |
| In golden afternoons we' re like loving spoons, just tell me where the damn things are sold | |
| Has something in the water made a mess out of me that we ain' t got no baby | |
| Has something in the well made a mess out of me that we ain' t got no child | |
| Well we' ve been to the doctor with the cold cold hands, best not to lay those best laid plans | |
| Nothing seems wrong but the hell inside of emptiness and vanished pride | |
| But all the way back home we' ll roll, we' ll hide our tear stained eyes | |
| Well may all the strollers roll, but empty yet is ours | |
| I' ll make a lullaby so woeful sad, I' ll make the angels weep | |
| The angels that guard our unborn child will cry themselves to sleep | |
| And then with good faith and with glowing heart, I' ll cure your sorrow deep | |
| As I take my song to that cloudy crib and with our baby creep | |
| And all the way back home will roll, we' ll wipe our joyful eyes | |
| Well may all the strollers roll but happiest is ours | |
| The palace is golden and the garden is green our own food grows in the yard |