of Corona See you, me and Julio down by the schoolyard See you, me and Julio down by the schoolyard In a couple of days they come and take me away
the riverside, it's bound to be a better ride Than what you've got planned Carry your cup in your hand And look around, leaves are brown now And the sky
s stony womb, The carriage rides to meet the groom, And opens wide and welcome doors, But he hesitates, then withdraws Deeper in the shadows. And the
edition of the news, Goodnight. Silent night Holy night All is calm All is bright Round yon virgin mother and child Holy infant so tender and mild Sleep
down my churches But I shall be free." Three hooded men, their hands lit the spark And they faded in the night, and they vanished in the dark And in
most peculiar man. He had no friends, he seldom spoke And no one in turn ever spoke to him, 'Cause he wasn't friendly and he didn't care And he wasn
Melodies Allergies to dust and grain Maladies Remedies Still these allergies remain My hand can't touch a guitar string My fingers just burn and ache
scenery, she read her magazine And the moon rose over an open field "Kathy, I'm lost," I said, though I knew she was sleeping I'm empty and aching and
stoned. I been Mick Jaggered, silver daggered. Andy Warhol, won't you please come home? I been mothered, fathered, aunt and uncled, Been Roy Haleed and Art Garfunkeled
restless walks she'll prowl the night; July, she will fly And give no warning to her flight. August, die she must, The autumn winds blow chilly and
(Instrumental)
family bassman My mamma was an engineer And I was born one dark gray morn With music coming in my ears In my ears. CHORUS They call me Baby Driver And
in their cages, And the zookeeper is very fond of rum. Zebras are reactionaries, Antelopes are missionaries, Pigeons plot in secrecy, And hamsters turn on frequently. What a gas! You gotta come and
briar They grew and they grew on the old church wall And could not grow no higher And there they tied in a true love's knot The rose bush and the briar
myth of fingerprints I've seen them all and man They're all the same Well, the sun gets weary And the sun goes down Ever since the watermelon And the
Time it was and what a time it was it was, A time of innocence a time of confidences. Long ago it must be, I have a photograph Preserve your memories
Fog's rollin' in off the East River bank Like a shroud it covers Bleeker Street Fills the alleys where men sleep Hides the shepherd from the sheep
