Happiness Stan (Mono)
Are you all sitty comftybold two-square on your botty? Then I'll begin...
Once upon a time in the land of dreams,
Where the sky was silky soft
and full of coloured dreams.
Deep inside a rainbow lived Happiness Stan,
in a small Victoriana char-a-banc
Evening will be here quite soon,
Stan can sit and watch the moon.
Watching as the white light,
slowly makes the night bright,
Hours slipping by while time stands still.
Think of black and black will think for you,
It's colours Stan embruses,
of the darkness that he knew,
For black has stolen half the moon away.
Now of course, like all real life experience stories, this also begins once a polly tito, and Happiness Stan, whose life evolved the ephemeral colour dreamy most, and his deep joy in this being the multicolour of the moon.
Oh yes. His home a victoriana charibold, the four-wheel folloped ft-ft-ft out the back.
Now, as eve on his deep approach, his eye on the moon. All time sometime deept joy of a full moon scintyladen dangly in the heavenly bode.
But now only half!
So, gathering all behind him the hintermost, he ploddy-ploddy forward into the deep complicadent fundermold of the forry to sort this one out.
Once upon a time in the land of dreams,
Where the sky was silky soft
and full of coloured dreams.
Deep inside a rainbow lived Happiness Stan,
in a small Victoriana char-a-banc
Evening will be here quite soon,
Stan can sit and watch the moon.
Watching as the white light,
slowly makes the night bright,
Hours slipping by while time stands still.
Think of black and black will think for you,
It's colours Stan embruses,
of the darkness that he knew,
For black has stolen half the moon away.
Now of course, like all real life experience stories, this also begins once a polly tito, and Happiness Stan, whose life evolved the ephemeral colour dreamy most, and his deep joy in this being the multicolour of the moon.
Oh yes. His home a victoriana charibold, the four-wheel folloped ft-ft-ft out the back.
Now, as eve on his deep approach, his eye on the moon. All time sometime deept joy of a full moon scintyladen dangly in the heavenly bode.
But now only half!
So, gathering all behind him the hintermost, he ploddy-ploddy forward into the deep complicadent fundermold of the forry to sort this one out.
Credits
Writer(s): Ronnie Lane, Steve Marriott
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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