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All the words you said to me Still vibrating in the air The elm, the ash and the linden tree The dark and deep, enchanted sea The trembling moon and the stars unfurled There she goes, my beautiful world
There she goes, my beautiful world There she goes, my beautiful world There she goes, my beautiful world There she goes again
John Willmot penned his poetry riddled with the pox Nabakov wrote on index cards, at a lectem, in his socks St. John of the Cross did his best stuff imprisoned in a box And JohnnyThunders was half alive when he wrote Chinese Rocks
Well, me, I'm lying here, with nothing in my ears Me, I'm lying here, with nothing in my ears Me, I'm lying here, for what seems years I'm just lying on my bed with nothing in my head
Send that stuff on down to me Send that stuff on down to me Send that stuff on down to me Send that stuff on down to me
There she goes, my beautiful world There she goes, my beautiful world There she goes, my beautiful world There she goes again
Karl Marx squeezed his carbuncles while writing Das Kapital And Gaugin, he buggered off, man, and went all tropical While Philip Larkin stuck it out in a library in Hull And Dylan Thomas died drunk in St. Vincent's hospital
I will kneel at your feet I will lie at your door I will rock you to sleep I will roll on the floor And I'll ask for nothing Nothing in this life I'll ask for nothing Give me ever-lasting life
I just want to move the world I just want to move the world I just want to move the world I just want to move
There she goes, my beautiful world There she goes, my beautiful world There she goes, my beautiful world There she goes again
So if you got a trumpet, get on your feet, brother, and blow it If you've got a field, that don't yield, well get up and hoe it I look at you and you look at me and deep in our hearts know it That you weren't much of a muse, but then I weren't much of a poet
I will be your slave I will peel you grapes Up on your pedestal With your ivory and apes With your book of ideas With your alchemy O Come on Send that stuff on down to me
Send that stuff on down to me Send that stuff on down to me Send that stuff on down to me Send that stuff on down to me Send it all around the world Cause here she comes, my beautiful girl
There she goes, my beautiful world There she goes, my beautiful world There she goes, my beautiful world There she goes again
This edition of Eyesroll's Not-Quite-Daily Earworm is brought to you courtesy of my skipping CD. Sigh.
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