Merchant Waltz: (you know i cant guess)

                        "Turn around,

                         tell me more.

                                                                                                                              Was that all they could say?

                          See I was bound by green

                                                                                                                                                dra

                                                                                                                                                        gon

                                                           flies."

                                                                                                                                                        "Were they stood,

                                                              unashamed?

                                                               Did the moon eat the sky,

                                                               and the grass,

                                                              turn into brown lead?"

                                                                                  "Were they wheeling,

                                                                                         clad carts,

                                                                                 full of silver and gold?

                                                                                   Did the river roll up

                                                                                                a 

                                                                                                    dull 

                                                                                                           sigh?"

                                                                                                      "Had you point,

                                                                                                         to the sky,                                                                     

                                                                                               they would never believe,                                                                    
                                                                                      your tin-top-boots ran through the night."

"Don't look that way, with your hair tied back:

How could I have known?

You know I can't guess.

I gave it my best."

                                      "So take your hands,

                                                                                     from your face.                                              

                                                                                                                                      Was that all they could say?

                                                                                                                                       See I was born on a doves

                                                                                                                                                        fair

                                                                                                                                                                  est

                                                                                                                                                                         wing."

                                                                                                                                                                 "Were they stood,

                                                                                                                                                                     unconcerned,

                                                                                                                                                            as the moon eat the sky?

                                                                                                                                                 And did the grass, turn into brown lead?"

,                                                                                  "Were they trading,

                                                                                           en-route,

                                                                                passing poverties dupes?

                                                                                     Did the mountains

                                                                                                wail

                                                                                                         the

                                                                                                                blues?"

                                                                                                            "Had you struck,

                                                                                                              with a word,

                                                                                                      they would never believe,

                                                                                                your jaded-shades cast them away."

"Don't look that way, towards the door:

How could I have known?

 You know I can't guess.

I gave it my best,

So before I go lay

I hope that you'll stay."