Says Elliot

I grow old I shall wear the bottom of my trousers rolled says Elliot

I grow old I shall wear the bottom of my trousers rolled says Elliot

days keep growing short, nights too

let us go then, you and I

and try to unlearn, says Elliot

he seeks for return and burns ancient love letters

let us go then you and I and lie by marble stone says Elliot

and put a record on the gramophone

Lie down dear

on the weed

Don't weep dear

gayly clad

sadness is a radical quantity says Elliot

sadness is a long brown ribbon, says he

sadness is beautiful

I grow old I shall wear the bottom of my trousers rolled says Elliot

I grow old I shall wear the bottom of my trousers rolled says Elliot