Tapioca Tundra

By michael nesmith





Reasoned verse, some prose or rhyme

Lose themselves in other times

And waiting hopes cast cast silent spells

That speak in clouded clues.

It cannot be a part of me,

For now it's part of you.



Careful plays on fields

That seems to vanish when they're in between

And softly as i walk away

In freshly tattered shoe.

It cannot be a part of me

For now it's part of you.



Sunshine, ragtime

Blowing in the breeze.

Midnight, looks right

Standing more at ease.



Silhouettes and figures stay

Close to what he had to say

And one more time the faded dream

Is saddened by the news.

It cannot be a part of me

For now it's part of you.



Well, sunshine, ragtime

Blowing in the breeze.

Midnight, looks right

Standing more at ease.



[instrumental]



Sunshine, ragtime

Blowing in the breeze.

Midnight, looks right

Standing more at ease.



Silhouettes and figures stay

Close to what he had to say

And one more time the faded dream

Is saddened by the news.

It cannot be a part of me

For now it's part of you.


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