Plenty Of Paper

something's growing under that wing

i think a face is dawning

oh no, the books are growing

faces and you're lost quite classically

with your nose in a book

and it seems so fitting

and perhaps this is the end

we've sought after for so long

and perhaps now it's done

'cause we found all your dire dreams

of men and machines

and turned them all around

our identical hands composing odd romance

i cut the moon in half

and stuck a piece to my hair

it made the back of my head

glow golden-yellow

and then i took

ten stars on sticks and placed them in my small metal bucket

i gave the other half of the moon to you

so you wouldn't forget me

while i'm gone

'cause we found all your dire dreams

of men and machines

and turned them all around

to enjoy them and benefit ourselves

our paperback books, our charming looks

our identical hands composing odd romance

and oh, my love, we could live on the sun

and wouldn't we be attractive

riding in our shining motorcars

with eyeglasses full of stars

with plenty of paper for scenery paintings

'cause we found all your dire dreams

of men and machines

and turned them all around

to enjoy them and benefit ourselves,

our paperback books, our charming looks

our identical hands composing odd romance