Grandma's bicycle

Fourty days and fourty nights

Have gone by without a bird in sight

Can't believe the emptyness of the sky

Can't believe the fumes of the cars

As they pass you by

On the road to feed her all the seed of gra...

Of your grandma's bicycle

Grandma's bicycle

The soft feathers in the street

Just precide the sidewalk

For some mad weed into an early street

Down down down to pick 'em up

Put 'em in his pocket I followed him

About a, about a block

And inside he goes into the nearest stewartist shop

Goes like an indian, the feathers he sold

Then made some small coin and laughed at my face

When he told me what he told them

When he told me what he told them, he said:

"I am through with this old damn world

and its overwhelming bad taste"

"I am through with this old damn world

and its overwhelming bad taste"

"I am through with this old damn world

and its overwhelming bad taste"

"I am through with this old damn world

and its overwhelming bad taste"

And then he told me:

"The star below your eyes,

You behave yourself and keep an open mind

The streets are full of treasures

And you can always find traces of birds

The lovellyness they leave behind

I'm not the soar with them

We are the same kind

Then many waved goodbye

Floated up above the cloud line"

Waved goodbye floated up above the cloud line

Waved goodbye floated up above the cloud line

We waved goodbye floated up above the cloud line

Fourty days and fourty nights

Have gone by without a bird in sight

Can't believe the emptyness of the sky

Can't believe the fumes of the cars

As they pass you by

On the road to feed her all the seed of gra...

Of your grandma's bicycle

Grandma's bicycle