| looks like you’ve given it all away |
| it fell to pieces one month of may |
| falling right out of crystal skies |
| to a strangely scenic bad place to lie |
| and if I stand on you. I can see the sea. |
| take it from me. That it’s raining on you. |
| Now there are daisies growing in your head |
| the only flowers to have found a bed |
| where only stones you’d expect to find |
| inside that scenic but dated mind |
| take it from me. That it’s raining on you. |
| tell me baby did you dream such impossible dreams |
| tell the world now why you’re better off covered in green |
| you can’t get up. You won’t come back again. It’s just poor you. |
| (seeing things) |
| Great friens now. Sincerity on the line. |
| so save me, put your divinity on the line. |
| take it from me. That it’s raining on you. |
| tell me baby how the world fell apart at its seams |
| tell the world now why you’re better off covered in green |
| you won’t get up you can’t come back again |
| it’s a picturesque but lonely little place where you’re lying now |
| it’s past the time for you, you can’t hear the crying now |
| but what the hell’s new except the daisies that grow in you |
| in your daisy head |
| goes around, round, round, no don’t get up |
| stuck half way to eternity and a buttercup |
| you might come back and haunt me |
| might give the word |
| before the line from here to gone gets blurred. |