1, 2, 3, 4
Paper pockets was my pastel
And from marching maps my finger nails
I scratching for a brave
That’s not been wrong yet
That’s not been wrong yet
'Cause I was a child with fits of fury
I was a child with fits of fury
And I didn’t love my god less
And I didn’t need my full skirt
Oh, I didn’t love my god less
And I didn’t need my full skirt
To beg green gypsy eyes
To beg green gypsy eyes
But I’ve seen you in narrow streets
I’ve turned some rocky ground
So I prune my trees back
For a stand tall garden
And I’ve counted some closets
So I, counted some closets
But now I'll knock my
Now I'll knock my
Sorrow shadows
I'll knock my sorrow, shadows
'Cause I was a child with fits of fury
Oh, I was a child with fits of fury
And I didn’t love my god bless
And I didn’t need my full skirt
Oh, I didn’t love my god bless
And I didn’t need my full skirt
To beg green gypsy eyes
To beg green gypsy eyes
Do you see this holy, holy spirit
Round my neck
Do you see I wear
This holy spirit round my neck
But it’s for my sister swallow
So play me pardon
Father son
Play me pardon
Father son
Father son
Father son
'Cause I was a child with fits of fury
Oh, I was a child with fits of fury
And I didn’t love my god bless
And I didn’t need my full skirt
Oh, I didn’t love my god bless
And I didn’t need my full skirt
To beg green gypsy eyes
To beg green gypsy eyes
To beg green gypsy eyes