The fools

They thought I was still listening to Darklands

But as was my custom

The melancholic beauty of Jesus and Mary

Played at a whisper

I had to hear the rest

They’d left their loot under a tree

Somewhere no wandering eye could see

Except for me

I sat in glee

They were telling me and only me you see

Down the river

Over the bridge

About 3 fields in

And over a ridge

And there it would be

A solution to all my problems

And end to all my woes

Couldn’t work out

Why though

For a bag of cash

you need to leave airholes