Something's growing under that wing
I think a face is dawning
Oh no the bugs are growing faces
And you're lost quite classically with your nose in a book
And it seemed so fitting
And perhaps this is the end
We've sought after for so long and perhaps no it's done

Because we've found all the dire dreams
Of men and machines
And turn them all around
Our identical hands
Composing our commands

I cut the moon in half
And stuck a piece to my hair
It made the back of my head glow
Golden yellow and then I took ten stars on sticks
And placed them in my small metal bucket
I gave the other half to you
So you wouldn't forget me while I'm gone

Because we've found all the dire dreams
Of men and machines
And turn them all around
To enjoy them and benefit ourselves
Our paperback books
Our charming looks
Our identical hands
Composing our commands

And oh my love
We could live on the sun
And wouldn't we be attractive
Riding in our shining motor cars
With eyeglasses full of stars
And plenty of paper for scenery painting

Because we've found all the dire dreams
Of men and machines
And turn them all around
To enjoy them and benefit ourselves
Our paperback books
Our charming looks
Our identical hands
Composing our commands