Down by the stream where the mushrooms grow
a man is covered from head to toe
with the many joys of daily life
to dispel all of the cold and strife
with this joy he made the fairies
the fairies that live to enjoy and be marry
the fairys that live to dance and sing
in the yellow sunlight by the stream
for many years they lived this way
having fun until the day
the people came with their big bad guns
and shot the fairies one by one
then the man covered with joy
whispered away to not but a boy
the boy wandered for quite some time
and the yellow sun ceased to shine
and the mushrooms shriveled and died away
and the boy waited for the day
when joy would return to his land
the day when oaks tall will stand
until then he lays under a tree
look for that boy, that boy is me.
Jul 18, 2010
Jul 18, 2010 at 3:26 PM UTC
Down by the stream where the mushrooms grow
a man is covered from head to toe
with the many joys of daily life
to dispel all of the cold and strife
with this joy he made the fairies
the fairies that live to enjoy and be marry
the fairys that live to dance and sing
in the yellow sunlight by the stream
for many years they lived this way
having fun until the day
the people came with their big bad guns
and shot the fairies one by one
then the man covered with joy
whispered away to not but a boy
the boy wandered for quite some time
and the yellow sun ceased to shine
and the mushrooms shriveled and died away
and the boy waited for the day
when joy would return to his land
the day when oaks tall will stand
until then he lays under a tree
look for that boy, that boy is me.
