Lover man, I won’t let you go down.    I’ll make you a bouquet of wild brooklyn flowers.    I’ll take you in. Hurl the sky over us!    And you will love again.       She’s still the flower in your eyes.    Oh why must you need more than mine?    Well, no sense fallin over a day dream.    And you will love again.    And I will bend, lover.    And here’s to the house of wounded soldiers.       I’ll make you a bouquet of wild Brooklyn flowers.    I’ll take you in. Hurl the sky over and over!    And you will love again.