Byrds, The
Antique Sandy
Antique Sandy lived in the woodsAnd she'd go to the stream when the weather was goodShe'd take down the washing for her old man to wearAnd she'd try not to get eaten by the bearShe'd fly to the market in her worn out old balloonThat she traded with the flier for an antique silver spoonAnd when she'd get home she'd cook upon the wooden stoveAnd she'd go to sleep and listen to the whispers of the groveAt night she dreamed of places where she lived when she was youngWhere the corn strip stretched for miles like a giant serpent's tongueElectric lights and phone bells and every light insaneLike a hundred thousand hungry miles were meeting at her brainAnd I greet her in the morning when she wakes up in my armsAnd I tell her that I love her and I'll keep her free from harmI hold her close, she matters, she is all the world to me'Cause she's my Antique Sandy, and she's in love with me
From Letras Mania