I was sitting and thinking, the way that you do,
Of something and nothing, of right and of wrong
When something or someone gave me the idea
To write down the words that turned into the song
Called The Rocking Machine...
And I invented the Rocking Machine,
Where the rainbow will end in a small pot of gold;
Where the salt of the earth will return from the sea
To the land from which it was driven of old...
Sway with me like the anemones sway,
Glide like a fish on the floor of the sea.
Sit in the shade of the tall granite rock;
For the door remains locked, but here lies the key
To the Rocking Machine...
And I invented the Rocking Machine,
Where the rainbow will end in a small pot of gold;
Where the salt of the earth will return from the sea
To the land from which it was driven of old...
Sit in your solid-state solitude, sit.
Think as you've never considered before.
Don't be discouraged by time that has gone,
When you find the key you will open the door
To the Rocking Machine...
Sombre decisions will take on the guise
Of simple pronouncements of what you believe.
To be true to yourselves, to be true to your friends.
Well, the harder you try, then the more you'll achieve
In the Rocking Machine...
And I invented the Rocking Machine,
Where the rainbow will end in a small pot of gold;
Where the salt of the earth will return from the sea
To the land from which it was driven of old.
Yes, and I invented the Rocking Machine,
Where the rainbow will end in a small pot of gold;
Where the salt of the earth will return from the sea
To the land from which it was driven of old...