Eli, the barrow boy
Of the old town
Sells coal and marigolds
And
Four score years living down in this rainswept town
see-saw
There are angels in your angles.
There's a low moon
In matching blue raincoats,
our shoes were our show boats
Sixteen military wives
thirty-two softly focused brightly colored eyes.
Star
On the lam from the law, on the steps of
I'm an engine driver
on a long run,
on a long run.
Would
Here she comes in her palanquin on the back of
We are two mariners
Our ships' sole survivors
In this
I fell on the playing field
The work of an errant
Here on these cliffs of Dover
So high you can't
