|
It's another happy April |
|
To every happy fool. |
|
And you move through my dreams |
|
Like a trout moves through a pool. |
|
Sure I will do anything, |
|
But I blush at the reverie. |
|
Sleeper come and go with me. |
|
And she always was a painter |
|
And she left me her suitcase, |
|
And I still remember |
|
The soft lines of her drunken face, |
|
As she stood there in my doorway, |
|
Like a cat up in a tree. |
|
Sleeper come and go with me. |
|
A small farm in Wisconsin |
|
For a driftless man, |
|
Supper on the table, |
|
And a lover's tender hands, |
|
Though she leaves my salt and woodsmoke, |
|
For a job in the city. |
|
Sleeper come and go with me. |
|
I will take you with my children, |
|
Through the clover, to the creek, |
|
When Orion's gone a hunting |
|
Through the fields our wishes seek, |
|
Where we all can love each other |
|
Like sugar in our tea. |
|
Sleeper come and go with me. |
|
Well the last wild fling is over |
|
And a cold wind brings the dawn, |
|
To rows of parking meters |
|
And the shadow of a blond, |
|
Who is standing by the wild rye |
|
In a pointless dream. |
|
Sleeper come and go with me. |
|
It's another happy April |
|
To every happy fool. |
|
And you move through my dreams |
|
Like a trout moves through a pool. |
|
Sure I will do anything, |
|
But I blush at the reverie. |
|
Sleeper come and go with me. |
