Our daydream spills from my gold head   Breaks free of my wooden neck   Left a nod over sleeping waves   Like bobbing bait for bathing cod   Floating flocks of candle swans   Slowly drift across wax ponds      The men all played along to marching drums   And boy did they have fun behind the sea   They sang, 'So our matching legs are marching clocks   And we?re all too small to talk to God   Yes, we?re all too smart to talk to God'      Toast the fine folks casting silver crumbs   To us from the dock   Jinxed things ringing as they leak   Through tiny cracks in the boardwalk   Scarecrow now it?s time to hatch   Sprouting sons and ageless daughters      Don't you know, don't you know   That those watermelon smiles just can?t ripen underwater   Just can?t ripen underwater      The men all played along to marching drums   And boy did they have fun behind the sea   They sang, 'So our matching legs are marching clocks   And we?re all too small to talk to God   Yeah, we?re all too smart to talk to God   Oh, we?re all too smart to talk to God'      Oh, waves of wooden legs, waves of wooden legs   Waves of wooden legs   Waves of wooden legs, waves of wooden legs   Waves of wooden legs      Waves of wooden legs, waves of wooden legs   Waves of wooden legs   Waves of wooden legs, waves of wooden legs   Waves of wooden legs