I think of a lot of a things when I'm walking.

I think of a lot of a things walking home.

I say them aloud, to myself I am talking.

I talk to myself when we are alone.



Why-ee-i-ee-i is my bleeding heart beating?

Why-ee-i-ee-i am I feeling no pain?

Why-ee-i-ee-i do I cry when I say Good

Bye-ee-i-ee-i, When I'm calling your name?



I look to the left and the right when I'm crossing.

I look straight ahead when I'm crossing the road.

The baggage I carry, that load I am tossing.

I look back behind at the row that I've hoed.



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