[1-2-3]
He gives speeches but they put him
Back in bed where he wrote his satire
He gives speeches, always reaches
Out a lot, led him to discover
Silken hair, more silken hair fell
On his face and no wind was blowin'
Stepped across the golden fields and
Saw that she was soon trailing after
She was nice and didn't fight
He fell into her friendly persuasion
Late that night while by a streetlight
Little hands shadowed on the ceiling