| Lyrics: | Whimsical, a pen in motion, thoughts roll in my mind,
scamper by so quickly now an agile word would find,
well I tried to grasp an angel, saw her wings, and watched her fly
reality for mingling dreams to scurry back and get in line.
We ordered out for mindless dribble,
over used, half wit, ishkabibble,
corner store junkies giving advice
we ordered out for paradise.
A gallery, a pen in motion, a delightful line instead,
it's chivalry outranks commotion on the roads most common tread,
and on those boots, the clicking heels, the dreams, the angel starts to fly,
to masquerade the world's parade for only seconds at a time.
We ordered out for mindless dribble,
over used, half wit, ishkabibble,
corner store junkies giving advice
we ordered out for paradise.
Apple butter toast is nice,
envisioned on a third wind twice,
my fine breaded friend was denied by the vice,
And they missed the perfume.
In a native centered world, one picks the fruit right off the trees,
on a wild blue island in the deep blue seas,
beyond a paleocentric world with all our people shaped in threes,
the only way I get around is some mild insanity.
We ordered out for mindless dribble,
over used, half wit, ishkabibble,
corner store junkies giving advice
we ordered out for paradise.
Apple butter toast is nice,
envisioned on a third wind twice,
my fine breaded friend was denied by the vice,
and they missed the perfume. |
