morning full of doves
but the Angels don\'t want me
and the clouds won\'t have me
I am sad, I am very sad
as Brutus sticks it to Caesar
and cancer\'s a six letter word
but death\'s only five
and it\'s 4 o\'clock somewhere
behind my eyes
and it\'s jailbirds and maulers
and pearls in the mouths of frogs
As Beethoven plans his escape
between the bent back tulips
staring at the blue sky above
and beyond
that\'s what they sold me
but it\'s busted like my clock
and it\'s 4 o\'clock somewhere behind my eyes
And the crows are angry,
The crows are very angry
but it\'s too little to late
with a poem I can\'t paint
but draw on the men\'s room stall
where Newton figured gravity
and I figured wrong
as the symphony screeches to a halt
and it\'s Christmas and New Year\'s
and the Fourth of July all next Tuesday
and life\'s a puzzle with too many pieces
and too little time
and the crows don\'t care
and the rain\'s still ugly all day.