When it comes to writing prose,
the words desert me I suppose
I'm not cut out to be good with
But when I hear the melody that
sings to me from the start
And I'm not talking moon and
Or any old hackneyed phrasing
I never set my sights too high
And if my days and nights
go by without a single rhyme
Baby, go some more to me,
Talkin' about the music, it's wisdom,
as the years go rolling by
The more determinedly I try to come up
with the words to fit a melody
Gotta stay with it, fly with me while you live,
I'll be seeing you at the rainbows
working on my sweet little mini farm
Like blinking it is sixty -three
I never turn it on because
You see, and now I'm taking a
I'm turning the spotlight on you

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Get nowMercer when I spend the night
All I know is that for a son,
This won't take a minute, but in 1968,
I think it was, I was invited by a
for our country at an international
I wrote this little tune and