On a hill , inside a house in Covewell Reach ,

stands a man who's feeling very tired

Looking at a song he wrote some time ago

Could have made it big inside a Broadway show

Every day I go away and find ideas

Think, I'll climb on top of somewhere high

Couldn't I write a song about a man who's dead

Didn't really know if he was off his head



Ev'rybody knows , that's the way it goes

Too bad for Gilbert Green

We can tell the world that he was right



Sitting in his attic on a sunny day

Mending 50 goblets that are worn

Humming to himself a song of yesteryear

His hearing wasn't good but his eyes were clear



Ev'rybody knows, that's the way it goes

Too bad for Gilbert Green

We can tell the world that he was right



Now the house is burnt along with Gilbert Green

Sad to see his sisters stand and cry

And in the basement lies a song that wasn't seen

Tells the tale of laughing men and yellow beans



Ev'rybody knows, that's the way it goes

Too bad for Gilbert Green

Now we can tell the world that he was right