Trial By Error (Part One)
Laughing and resting under trees
The dense leafs have felt you will freeze
You're handing hands like politicians
Sending the old mule on your missions
Trial by error, use common sense
The resposibility feels so immense
You want to be the lovers who salute the flag
All you do is scream the song and they gag
Choking on their chicken fingers and soda pops
They clean their guns, and you shoot you mops
You stumble about to catch out the next flight
The stewardesses are angels and not quite
the good girls who put gum in your hair
and you're a cueball with a few laughs to spare
And you swear, "It's too much to bear."
Sticky fingers give you a high five
That sunday court you hate does revive
To judge the captured red and sticky hands
Make them fit to join the marching bands
Stop the blues with smiles, and mess the jazz
Who would have thought? Everyone has!
We all desire to find the new and make it old
We have to cash in or lose our gold
Which flow in the viens and turns to dust
If the glitter is litter it would have be a bust
Like my young fool's heavenly bender
Who ends up forgetting who's of what gender
Laughing and resting under trees
The dense leafs have felt you will freeze
You're handing hands like politicians
Sending the old mule on your missions
Trial by error, use common sense
The resposibility feels so immense
You want to be the lovers who salute the flag
All you do is scream the song and they gag
Choking on their chicken fingers and soda pops
They clean their guns, and you shoot you mops
You stumble about to catch out the next flight
The stewardesses are angels and not quite
the good girls who put gum in your hair
and you're a cueball with a few laughs to spare
And you swear, "It's too much to bear."
Sticky fingers give you a high five
That sunday court you hate does revive
To judge the captured red and sticky hands
Make them fit to join the marching bands
Stop the blues with smiles, and mess the jazz
Who would have thought? Everyone has!
We all desire to find the new and make it old
We have to cash in or lose our gold
Which flow in the viens and turns to dust
If the glitter is litter it would have be a bust
Like my young fool's heavenly bender
Who ends up forgetting who's of what gender