Frog Eyes Bushels Lyrics
Bushels by Frog Eyes
Oh when he stumbled to his wares
He stumbled to his wares
Oh like a peddler who awoke in the fourth course of the night
Oh when he stumbled to his wares
He said I'll sell you in the morning
Though the night sails in the mourning
With its Quotas and its Bales
He called his sister, he called his brother
He skipped his father, he scorned his mother
He was what the Poor call the Maimed
You don't dime dime dime dime, you don't stain, you don't eulogise dirt plains
Though there's a colony in song
And though he had lots, lots to do
He pulled the flies off of their wings
To give the birch birch birch birch back his spring
Oh, and though he had
Lots to do, he pulled the flies off of their wings
Oh to give the birch birch birch birch back his spring
Oh with his ankle width and with his collar width
And with the blessed forms of blessed bliss
And the motorcade with the alter-cade
With the steely men with the steely shades
Dear I am proud of your gains
Oh with his ankle width and with his collar width
And with the blessed forms of blessed bliss
And the motorcade with the alter-cade
With the steely men with the steely shades
I am part of your gates
And though he had lots, lots to do
He pulled the flies off of their wings
To give the birch birch birch back his spring
The wheat's got to last
London, you're cold, but the wheat's got to last
And when am I ever going to feel the sting of your sun?
I was a singer and I sang in your home
He stumbled to his wares
Oh like a peddler who awoke in the fourth course of the night
Oh when he stumbled to his wares
He said I'll sell you in the morning
Though the night sails in the mourning
With its Quotas and its Bales
He called his sister, he called his brother
He skipped his father, he scorned his mother
He was what the Poor call the Maimed
You don't dime dime dime dime, you don't stain, you don't eulogise dirt plains
Though there's a colony in song
And though he had lots, lots to do
He pulled the flies off of their wings
To give the birch birch birch birch back his spring
Oh, and though he had
Lots to do, he pulled the flies off of their wings
Oh to give the birch birch birch birch back his spring
Oh with his ankle width and with his collar width
And with the blessed forms of blessed bliss
And the motorcade with the alter-cade
With the steely men with the steely shades
Dear I am proud of your gains
Oh with his ankle width and with his collar width
And with the blessed forms of blessed bliss
And the motorcade with the alter-cade
With the steely men with the steely shades
I am part of your gates
And though he had lots, lots to do
He pulled the flies off of their wings
To give the birch birch birch back his spring
The wheat's got to last
London, you're cold, but the wheat's got to last
And when am I ever going to feel the sting of your sun?
I was a singer and I sang in your home