Of my tragic cigarette
She's steam
Laughing on the windowpanes
The never-ending swaying haze
Oh, that ever smiling maze
Oh, that ever smiling maze
Ballet

Everything's gone missing
I've lost more songs to floods
I can't prove this makes any sense but
I sure hope that it does
Perhaps
I was born with curiosity
The likes of those of old crows
The likes of those of old crows

And oh, how the piano knows
The piano knows something
I don't know

I won't cut my beard and I won't change my hair
It grows like fancy flowers but it grows nowhere
My hair, my hair

If I could build my house just like the Trojan horse
I'd put a statue of myself upon the shelf
Of course, of course, of course
Of course, of course, of course
Of course, of course, of course

Of course