Paul Kantner)





Martha she listens for the ticking of my footsteps,

Patiently;

She sifts the hairy air that's worn and woodswept,

Pleasantly;



She does as she pleases,

She listens for me;



Martha she calls to me from a feather in the meadow,

"Fly to me:"

You can dance and sing and walk with me;

And dreams will fade and shadows grow in weed;



She does as she pleases,

Her heels rise for me;



My love, she talks to winking windows,

as she murmurs to her feet,

Thoughtfully;

She separates in laughter to my side,

Caught for me;



She does as she pleases,

Her heels rise for me;



Martha , she keeps her heart in a broken lock,

and it's waiting there for me;

She weeds apart through a token lock;

What a great thing to be free;



She weeps time, starts unspoken;

But when the gate swings,

There she'll be,

there she'll be



In green sun;

On blue earth;

Under warm sunning showers.



Copyright 1967, 1968 Icebag Corp