My mind is literally tied in knots My brain hurts such a lot I cannot explain

Let’s make sure the trees don’t fall Don’t cover nature with a cold concrete wall Let’s still see the deep blue sky

As iconic as His Masters Voice There is only one choice Master of Malt Distilled in history

Through the cracked window I definitely see you A distorted view

Miss Bobbin of String You have everything For a on off fancy job Or a big job lot

A picture just living A trio of fins Where do they begin?

A piano in the moonlight The pianist plays with such musical delight To the twinkling stars and silvery moon

Stuck in its own unique time zone It’s always 50’s retro Big American cars drive fashionably slow

Rainbows of ecstasy Whirlwinds of fantasy Delirious in love and sweat

Every time I switch on the TV We are travelling back in time It might as well be 1999

The Secret Old Gate Never knew its own fate

The wizardry owl of gigantic words Knew his spells by every rhyming verse

Life is reflecting back at me The future is sometimes dark and misty I don’t know what is in front of me

A sweet tender tasteful delight An insect in the spotlight Your imagination’s creation

I wrote it all down From my feet in the ground To the helicopter in the sky To orange peel that went down the slide

Poets from the past Their words written in lasting ink Last long after they have died

The upside down mural on the green walls A picture that gradually falls So hard to see

All brought together with a wonderfully woven tapestry scarf A secret gem with a big beating heart

A musical Christmas tree Playing a sweet melody With twinkling fairy lights

At least one time I wish I could rewind Travelling back in time To replay hot summer days