Print

From this blackberry bushWe can pick flowers and juneOr harvest berries in OctoberAnd bake coppers for our lovesAnd spill sugar on the tablesAt the end of summerWe feel very rottenAll the times we were bored to death are forgottenSo we wear our new clothes or hand me downs from brothersAnd parade around school looking just like the othersI slept right through the afternoonAnd thought of the time that I'd wastedI could have been washing my carBut, with my lucky, it would rain the next dayAnd I could have been answering the phoneBut, with my luck, it'd be more bills to pay.I am not a doctorBut I know how to use a thermometerAnd I am not your analystBut I can still tell you're unhappyWe're all just a little unhappySo if I had a dime for each person I lovedI would buy a big house with rooms for all of usAnd we'd eat our breakfast at one big tableWith three million chairs to seat three million peopleWith three million chairs to seat three million people Aus Songtexte Mania