We're setting summer on its way.
There is a road that meets the road that goes to my house,
and out of green grows there.
And we got special birds that meet the path to my house,
and it's careful, and it's careful what I'm there.
I say to my mother what a crooked friend she is,
and he's a good shot running a chick,
and now it's gots rolls to spin, and it's bigger than me.
Now we have them, now we have them, now we have them.
The water rolls down the drain,
the water rolls down the drain.
Oh, I don't know anything,
and I'm lonely and crazy.
July, July, July,
it never seems so strange.
July, July, July,
it never seems so, it never seems so strange.
This is the story of the road that goes to my house,
and what ghosts do there remain.
And all the troughs that run the length and breadth of my house,
and the chickens that tie their old chicken chain.
And we'll remember this when we owe an ancient,
though the specifics might be vague.
Now I say I can't resolve this fight,
but you know in fact,
it was a natural history.
The water rolls down the drain,
the water rolls down the drain.
Oh, I don't know anything,
and I'm lonely and crazy.
July, July,
it never seems so strange.
July, July, July,
it never seems so, it never seems so strange.
It never seems so strange.
It never seems so strange.
It never seems so strange.
It never seems so strange.
