That was the year he combed his hair He did it himself I do declare Wore it out in the open air And smiled for all the ladies
Can't really say it was in style Not by a mile, it was off the dial He'd do it then every once in a while There's a painting I can show ye
That was the year his hat was stole Pilfered by an elfin troll Knocked him on the head and his head was swoll Early in the morning
Whe he woke he was alone Money gone all on its own His pillow was the smoothest stone His bed it was primeval
Left to die on the forest floor He was saved by Edward the matador Who was there in town to settle a score A duel at twenty paces
Ed bound his wounds by a sylvan creek Spoke of a very young Veronique And other "true loves" so to speak As the mob came within earshot
That was the year he washed his face I recall the time and place He'd just left an inner space And was hoping for a landing
That was the year he scrubbed his ears He'd never heard a voice so clear 'Til she whispered that word in his ear That he has not forgotten
That was the year he combed his hair I was a witness, I was there The day was warm and the sky was fair And her glance changed him foreverTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.