​​I've got the stamp collector blues

And teddy bear shoes

An aching hunger to be free 

Spilled my soul on dirty knees

So I set off to venture alone 

And forget all I have known 

Wear the bears in sullen stride

Rip through the night with lousy pride

Found myself in lowly places

Where the ladies had no faces

From those barstools I heard sorrows

Of mountain lions in the throws

A loony viking once told me 

Over a cup of chamomile tea

There is a staircase to the moon

In the reflection inside a spoon

For twenty-eight nights I drifted through

Saw everything, but nothing was new

The daughter who did not want to marry

Slept feverish and sick on the ferry

Hear ye, lower the sails

The warbler flies with the whales

Sit there blowing smoke

The windmills all went broke

Miss the days drying linens

Deathbed chatting with the women

Soup for dinner, all we had

If the bananas had all gone bad

Find the inn and her keeper

Deep and heavy sleeper

My roots run far underground

O let me be found!