Every Alcove

Duration

3:54

Genres

Folk

Description

Lyrics

[Refrain] If you come a little closer, let your eyes adjust And open your mind up, the whole of the hillside Will come into focus Let the flowers and the grass grow up around you there The locals are waiting in every alcove And anticipating Meet Miss Tropicanna Black Her friends call her Lily Not that she has anybody Whom she could really call a friend, per se Sweet Miss Tropicanna Black Some say she's a little off Not that anyone has much of anything to say at all To Tropicanna Black [Refrain] These weeds echo with the sounds Of Christopher Cricket He leads a chorus that surrounds us Here in the thicket We count on it "Three cheers," we joyful! We exclaim, "Here comes Mr. Cricket" Fingers snapping to the songs he sings We wave and stop to say, "There goes one swell guy" [Refrain] If you come a little closer, get to know the folks That scuttle along on the overgrown lawn There’s so much that goes on Let the clovers and the canes grow up around your brain The natives exchange subterranean claims So glad that you came Earthworm, face-first in the dirt Leave him to his folly He works all the day and night With nothing but plight to show For Wally Dearth Earthworm Wally, what’s the point? You wallow and dawdle Each and every day the same old mess Of sweat and soil, inanely toiling away Lily Black, she stares down at the grass Watching ants share information She has a rad collection of acorn-caps And thoughts on why some folks are so numb And Chris Cricket wishes each song were his last Perhaps he could at-least sing in a minor key No one saw as Wally worked to solve The meadow’s arid-soil situation