He's old like the raspberry cold

Coming in the window

His gloom room

Flowers blooming out like armadillos

He looks to the left at the yellow lines

Moving with the traffic

His veins have turned to plastic blinds

He was new like the violet dew

Water looking at him through

The telescopic mountain view

Where the stars were still laughing

He lept into the northern sky

Filled his lungs with peach pie

Never even wondered why

Go with the yellow light

Your mind is a dandelion

The weight of your crooked spine

Is returning to snow

And though you are mostly now machines

Not electrical in dreams you're a rose

He's old like the raspberry cold

Coming in the window

His gloom room

Flowers then blooming out like armadillos

He walks with the owls in the yellow moon

Walks like a river lapping

His blood is thick and tacking

He was new like the violet dew

Water looking at him through

The telescopic mountain view

The stars were still laughing

He lept into the northern sky

Filled his lungs with peach pie

Never even wondered why

Go with the yellow light

Your mind is a dandelion

The weight of your crooked spine

Is returning to snow

And though you are mostly now machines

Not electrical in dreams you're a rose

He looks to the left

He looks to the left

He looks to the left

He looks to the left