Oh, the pretty little girl, on Easter's day by a bright center fountain consented to play Held an Easter star very close to her heart Stepping back from the fountain so as not to be harmed by the spray There she did play Told her toy rabbit to smile, for a poor man's child can also be loved by the rain from above Glistening spray And the soldiers on leave from the ship Genevieve with their all-shining buttons and newly-pressed sleeves Taking pictures that day of the Easter Parade they stood watching the clowns who were gathered about pretty girls Now watching them swirl, told one another to laugh mainly to forget all the memories of dead swirling leaves seen from the ship Genevieve Nobody sees but Queen Merka and me and she is sitting beneath a tree 86th Street, 11 pm in the evening tide And the little girl hippie, the queen of virginity, says for her lover she has an affinity Her hair swings with ease, he trips in the breeze, She comes to the fountain and says, If you'd please move around, I should like to sit down Painting her mind with a flask, readjusting her mask She's a virgin queen who's done everything and a bit more And the great stoned hash eater, the childless wife beater He walks with his boyfriend on into the spray Saying "I love you babe," Walking down toward the pavement and locking, embracing, as though to say "I don't care; I love him more than her." He makes his way down to the center of town where a fountain of petals says "You are not metal" "Your love is not wrong" Nobody sees but Queen Merka and me And she is sitting beneath a tree 86th Street, 11 pm in the evening tide And the dirty old man, he whiles out the day He's a permanent fixture, a sidewalk display He's got very strange habits, like making passes and he smiles with his dentures as the fountain spray passes his crown It's all part of the merry-go-round Thinks of them that's behind, sort of wishing that life could be a bit more fair, as he's losing his hair There goes his sex appeal And what of the fountain? Oh, it overflows drowning all the people in their best Easter clothes Laughingly, knowingly, it's unifying all of the people, assured they were dying tethered, bound by water together The city's together at last, but the moment has passed They all walk away, far from the spray Going their separate ways Nobody sees but Queen Merka and me And she is sitting beneath a tree 86th Street, 11 pm in the evening tideTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
