Deathtrip to a Mirage Asylum
Searching high with a yellow soul
I dig for ashes in a sea of gold
Drifting low, my yellow soul
I'll live on air if the clouds will hold
Jesus riding on a white horse
Hero calling from the sky
Jesus riding on a white horse
With spare room for you and I to fly
Riding on a white horse high
Wanna ride, wanna ride so high
On a white horse high
Sail high on the ocean sky
Searching high with a yellow soul
There's no tomorrow in the days of old
I was falling low, my yellow soul
It's sad to burn, left in the cold
January Git
I still believe in Sunday as being a day of rest
And maybe it's because I'm an Irishman
That I like Dublin best
Still whose who are you to tell me I'm alright Fred
But don't let that worry your son
For when he grows up and gets blown out of here
Have yourself A-tomic bomb
Now introducing Maisie(Maisie) and on my right Will be
Both of whom are here now represented by
our good friend U.V.I.P.
Whose mundane conjectural I'd recommend
Only if you like rocking jazz
Intermingled with an ounce of U double K
full of eastern Raj Matazz
Close your eyes and the door don't forge-t
If you do I take it you know what to expect
(Break)
Still whose who are you to tell me I'm alright
Fred but don't let that worry your son
For when he grows up and gets blown out of here
Have yourself a (really)
Tour-de-force-a(yearly)
non-de-plume A-tomic bomb
Feeling tired one degree under Oh -
What you need is picking up so off you go
(Get picked up you know)
(Break)
Whose mundane conjectural I'd recommend
Only if you like rocking jazz
Intermingled with an ounce of U double K
Full of Eastern (promise)
Without a doubting (Thomas)
Polynesian Raj Matazz