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In-a-gadda-da-vida, remastered [1968]
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In parks of tall trees in unusual cities the homeless sleep up in the branches the youngest climb down for the day, to sit and supplicate under affluent boot heels returning each night they ascend to shelter, settling snuggly into their pod-like bowers the pods grow around them and snap into...

Found underneath a gooseberry bush, some time past. A purveyor of pomes and posey, liking nothing more than to be thumbing his flaming jangle music all hours
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Tuesday what a morning to be ing that sun down, into now today will be more than more than what a mistake to be bored with your life pleased to see that you're over it, you seem to be having it all the morning after oh no! Too slow! It's mrs. Morning doubtful-doubtful, effing on and on and...

Found underneath a gooseberry bush, some time past. A purveyor of pomes and posey, liking nothing more than to be thumbing his flaming jangle music all hours
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The town lapsed into silent outlines and fell asleep by two each day she'd watch the city die happiness is a yesterday thing - not like that dream she had in pink with dancers - to a halt into the canvas flat sits at her table she will work the world to shape and bend it to her will but...

Found underneath a gooseberry bush, some time past. A purveyor of pomes and posey, liking nothing more than to be thumbing his flaming jangle music all hours
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Flakebelly
You can throw your fruit away if you really want to you can smush the spiders on the ceilings and walls i will mend the rope so you can crawl up the sand dune we can sit for still minutes in silent repose you can do those things that will make you feel comfortable harmless peccadilloes, little...

Found underneath a gooseberry bush, some time past. A purveyor of pomes and posey, liking nothing more than to be thumbing his flaming jangle music all hours
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iTunes
Amazon
Flakebelly