Frog Eyes - Bushels lyrics

When he stumbled to his wares And he stumbled to his wares At last a penny laugh who awoke In the fourth course of the night When he stumbled to his wares He said, "I'll sell you in the morning" And now the night night night night sails in the morning With his quotas and it's bales He called his sister, he called his brother He skipped his father, he scorned his mother He was what the poor called mean You don't die, die, die, die, you don't sing You don't eulogize your pains Though there's a colony in sorrow, oh oh oh oh And though, though he had lot, lot, lot, lots to do He pulled a fly of it's little wing Oh to give the birch, birch, birch, birch back it's spring Woah, woah, woah, woah And though, and though he had lots, lot, lots to do He pulled a fly off of it's little wing Oh to give the birch, birch, birch, birch back his spring Oh with his collared whip, with the echoing With the haunted haunted hundred dollar ship in the holocade, when they altercate in the motorcade with the shield you shade Oh dear I'm proud of your gains Now with the collared whip, with the vehicle, when you know you know you know you're full of sh** For the love, for the lives, for the black hood it pays you I'll think off on your gains, Oh oh oh And though, though he had lot, lot, lot, lots to do He pulled a fly of it's little wing Oh to give the birch, birch, birch, birch back it's spring Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah, woah And though, though he had lot, lot, lot, lots to do He pulled a fly of it's little wing Oh to give the birch, birch, birch, birch back it's spring Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah, woah He pulled a fly of it's little wing Oh to give the birch, birch, birch back it's spring He pulled a fly of it's little wing Oh to give the birch, birch, birch back it's spring He pulled a fly of it's little wing Oh to give the birch, birch, birch back it's spring, oh Oh wait, it's got got, got to last But the wheat, wheat, wheat's got, got, got to last But the wheat, wheat's got, got, got, got to last Oh London, you're cold, but the wheat's got, got, got to last Oh London, you're cold, but the wheat's got, got, got to last Oh London, you're cold, but the wheat's got, got, got to last London, you're cold, but the wheat's got, got, got to last When am I going to feel the sting of your sun? When am I going to fear the sting of your sun? And when am I going to feel the sting of your sun? Oh, I was a singer, I sang on your home Your home, your home, your home, your home Your home, your home, your home, your home I was a singer I was a singer, woah I was a singer I was a singer, woah I was a singer, woah I was a singer, woah I was a singer, woah I was a singer, woah I was a singer