I won't cut my beard
And I won't change my hair
It grows like fancy flowers
But it grows nowhere, my hair, my hair

If I could build my house
Just like a Trojan Horse
I'd put a statue of myself
upon the shelf of course, of course, of course

She's the smoke, she's dancing fancy pirouettes
Swan diving off the deep end of my tragic cigarette
She's steam laughing on the window panes
The never ending sawying haze
Oh, that ever smiling haze
Oh, that ever smiling haze ballet

Everything's gone missing
I've lost more songs to floods
I can't prove this makes any sense
But I sure hope I does

Perhaps I was born with curiosity
Of the likes of those of old crows
Of the likes of those of old crows
And oh, how the piano knows
The piano knows something I don't know

I won't cut my beard
And I won't change my hair
It grows like fancy flowers
But it grows nowhere, my hair, my hair

If I could build my house
Just like a Trojan Horse
I'd put a statue of myself
upon the shelf of course, of course, of course

Of course, of course, of course
Of course, of course, of course
Of course
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Thanks to (Bryce) for correcting these lyrics. May 2, 2008

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