Hap Hippy Bapday

Flowers in the garden, clouds in my head
Had fun chasing rainbows, wherever they hid
The gold is all gone, painted bricks left behind
The Queen of High Places went out of her mind

There’s flies in the kitchen, birds in the trees
I could be Icarus surfing the breeze
Taunting the fates, the higher he’d fly
He paid the price to soar through the sky

It all seems so surreal
I’m just a cubist at heart
I’d like to take you home
Its a fine place to start

Things are getting better, at least that’s what they’ve said
A barrel of monkeys and a loaf of wry bread
Won’t make you happy, take heed what you’ve got
Have a hap hippy bapday, a cherry on top

Careful what you wish for ... lest you incriminate
Careful what you say ... lest you recriminate
Careful who you judge ... lest you discriminate

If I were an artist who paints with a song
I’d write you an opera that goes on too long
You'd be Brunhilde, and I’ll be the king
You know it ain’t over til the fat lady sings

It all seems so surreal
I’m just a cubist at heart
I’d like to paint you nude
Its a fine time to start
Have a Hap Hippy Bapday
With a cherry on top

copyright ©2019 T. Atkinson