Cobweb Times

Volcano, volcano, volcano
Take a bucket of cold water to your face
I got plenty things to do

Hurricane, hurricane, hurricane
Blow your gust at someone else's frantic race
So I can find my way back home

"Oh dear" sighed the window cleaner, wiping the regret from his eyes
The jockey shot his horse, the noose a telephone
The three cup trick danced on the streets
Cobweb Times

Volcano, volcano, volcano,
Take a bucket of cold water to your face
I got plenty things to do

Hurricane, hurricane, hurricane
Blow your gust at someone else's frantic race
So I can find my way back home

The bell screamed lunchtime war,
the weak one was destined for the dogs
The ice cream man survived
His dentures sufficed love
Eggs resemble crackling eyes on board and out of touch



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