Bushels

when he stumbled to his wares

at last a penny laugh who awoke
in the fourth course of the night
oh when he stumbled to his wares

He said I'll sail you in the morning
and now the night night night night sails in the morning
with his quotas and his bales

He called his sister, he called his mother
He got his father, he scorned his mother
He was what the poor, got a mean mean mean mean

You don't die, you don't die, you don't sing sing sing sing
You don't utilize, eulogize your pains
Though there's a colony in song-oh oh oh oh...

Oh, though, though he had
l-l-l-l-lot's to do, he pulled a
Fly off it's little wing, oh to give the
The birch birch back it's swing

Oh, though he had
l-l-l-l-lot's to do, he pulled the
wings off a thousand feathered singing birds oh to give the
earth back it's string

Oh with his collared whip, with the echoing, with the haunted haunted hundred dollar ship
in the holocade, when they altercate in the motorcade with the shield you shade
Oh de-ar I'm proud of your gains

Now with the collared whip, with the vehicle, when you know you know you know you're full of shit
For the love, for the lives, for the black hood it pays you
I'll think off on your gains, Oh oh oh

Oh, though, though he had
l-l-l-l-lot's to do, he pulled a
Fly off it's little wing, oh to give the
The birch birch back it's spring, oh oh oh

Oh, though, though he had
l-l-l-l-lot's to do, he pulled a
Fly off it's little wing, oh to give the
The birch birch back it's spring, when he pulled a

Fly, oh offa little wing, oh to give the
Earth back it's radium swing, oh he pulled a
its a five thousand feathered radium wings oh to give give give
the birch back it's spring, oh he pulled a
Flies offa little wing wing wing wing, oh to give the
bir-ch back its swing, oh-oh-uh...

...it's got got to last
But the wheat wheat wheat's got got to last
London is cold, but the wheat wheat wheat's got got to last
When am I going to feel the sting of your sun?
I was a singer, I sang on your heart
I was a singer and I sang on your home