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 the 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 of the deep end of my tragic cigarette

She's steam laughing on the window panes

The never-ending swaying haze

Oh, that ever smiling maze

Oh, that ever smiling maze ballet



Everything's gone missing

I've lost more songs to floods

I can't prove this makes any sense

But I sure hope that it 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 that 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 the 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