He's old like the raspberry cold
Coming in the window
His gloom room
Flowers blooming out like armadillos
He looks to the left at the yellow lines
Moving with the traffic
His veins have turned to plastic blinds
He was new like the violet dew
Water looking at him through
The telescopic mountain view
Where the stars were still laughing
He lept into the northern sky
Filled his lungs with peach pie
Never even wondered why
Go with the yellow light
Your mind is a dandelion
The weight of your crooked spine
Is returning to snow
And though you are mostly now machines
Not electrical in dreams you're a rose
He's old like the raspberry cold
Coming in the window
His gloom room
Flowers then blooming out like armadillos
He walks with the owls in the yellow moon
Walks like a river lapping
His blood is thick and tacking
He was new like the violet dew
Water looking at him through
The telescopic mountain view
The stars were still laughing
He lept into the northern sky
Filled his lungs with peach pie
Never even wondered why
Go with the yellow light
Your mind is a dandelion
The weight of your crooked spine
Is returning to snow
And though you are mostly now machines
Not electrical in dreams you're a rose
He looks to the left
He looks to the left
He looks to the left
He looks to the left
