I do nothing but sit behind the house now
In an old deck chair
And smoke is coming out of my mouth
And out of both my nostrils, too
I blow it to where the wind
Is forming a birdhouse out of it
The next winter will come for sure
And then, I want all the birds to be happy, too.
Chorus:
Nothing works for me anymore,
Because everything is turning around you
Since the sky every morning
Is wearing the color of your eyes.
I hear the rustling of every tree,
That moves in front of my sun
And threaten it with getting a saw
If it won't be saying something nice soon
Something like that a single hair of yours
Is stronger than a rope made of hemp
And weighs heavier than twenty beers.
I'd like to prove that if I had one here.
Chorus
I've seen you only yesterday
And I'm going to do it again tomorrow
Until then I just stay here,
Like something that an old dog would deposit at your door
Because it's a small piece of rotten wood,
Which the dog quite liked,
When it was lying in a pile,
That is rising to a green sky next door.
Chorus