You'll always have smokes
If you always give buckets of love
Like little sad Tad who was living
On beetles and [bad word] He had a blue-eyed merle
and loved an Indian girl
Lived alone in the warm wet fields
In this corner of the world

You'll always eat bread
If you always have seeds to sow
LIke old Zen Ben who lived
With a murder of crows
He wore a crown of beans
And a belt of weeds
Slept alone in the warm wet fields
On a bed of mustard seed

guitar solo

You won't lose the beat if you just keep
Clapping your hands
Like sweet sweet Pete who clapped
for [bad word] Band
He had a broken lung
And a bit-off tongue
Lived alone in the warm wet fields
Under moon and the sun

Under moon and the sun!