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| 2. |
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Explain to you,
The girl who tells me that she knows herself. I say to you, (my girl,) You don't know you, (my girl,) Only really shallow people know themselves It's true to say. Everybody's playing happy Freud. I say to you, (my girl,) You don't know you, (my girl,) Your Capricorn is showing, And the edge is getting frayed, frayed. Here's to all those people Who know themselves; (They really know themselves.) They look into a mirror and They know themselves. (They really know themselves.) I will build them A mirror they can see themselves As other people see them! Here's to all those people Who know themselves; (They really know themselves.) They look into a mirror and They know themselves. (They really know themselves.) I will build them A mirror they can see themselves As other people see them! Bum bup ba! Babba babba ba! Everybody's playing happy Freud. I say to you, (my girl,) You don't know you, (my girl,) Your Capricorn is showing, And the edge is getting frayed. Bum bup ba! Babba babba ba! Everybody's playing happy Freud. I say to you, (my girl,) You don't know you, (my girl,) Your Capricorn is showing, And the edge is getting frayed. Bum bup ba! Babba babba ba! Bum bup ba! Babba babba ba! (Say to you!) |
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| 3. |
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| 4. |
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I'm goin' back, goin' back, to be young again
to find a time to develop my mind and be kind to really see, to really hear, to really live, to really love and be kind When I was young, I knew that I was right then everything moved, I wandered out of sight I'm goin' back I'm goin' back I'm goin' back I'm goin' back, to be young young, young, I'm goin' back I'm goin' back, to be young again I'm goin' back, I'm goin' back, to be young young |
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| 6. |
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Little Arabella, she's always out of her head.
She lives in a daydream, she never understands what she said. She carries a flower, long after everyone said it's dead. And if you see her, you'll never believe, her head. Little Arabella, she giggles away into bed. A skirt around her ankles, smoke comin' out of her head. She wakes in the morning, looks and there's nobody in her bed. And if you meet her, you'll never believe, her head. Talks in riddles, talks in rhymes. She reads the stars and looks for signs. She is a problem of the times. I'm rather glad she isn't mine. Little Arabella, she giggles away into bed. A skirt around her ankles, smoke comin' out of her head. She wakes in the morning, looks and there's nobody to be found. And if you meet her, you're sure to be, her next ground. Arabella, that's Arabella. Arabella out of her head. Arabella out of her head. Arabella out of her head. Arabella out of her head. Have you ever met a bird, quite like little Arabella? Course you have, she's sitting right next to you. |
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| 9. |
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What can I say, she's walking away
from all we saw What can I do, still loving you It's all a dream How can we hang on to a dream? How can it really be the way it seems? What can I do, she's still saying it's through with how it was What will I find, I still can't see why she says what she does How can we hang on to a dream? How can it really be the way it seems? What can I say, she's walking away from all we saw What can I do, she's still saying we're through It's all a dream How can we hang on to a dream? How can it really be the way it seems? How can we hang on to a dream? |
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| 11. |
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