Lyrics:
a white swan
I will swim into your dawn
Silken birch
Red rise
Over ripples
In a frozen disguise
You're dressed to the nines
Silken birch
Red rise
Over
Forever remembered
As the children of the sea
Their birch tree heritage
Red ochre
Painted faces
Ancient spirits
A deceased identity
The mountains
we get Red Skelton won't that be a victory
Oh we're the John Birch Society, the John Birch Society
Norman Vincent Peale may think he's kidding us along
down trees in the old trails
Wood chips, sawdust and gasoline
Evergreen needles and birch bark
Coat my red flannel and old jeans
Tinder insurgents, this
the hand of a man who was lost in thought, but I always seem to breathe upon the
heads of the John Birch Reds...so when you lose control and lock the door,
grown
Swinging to make a thousand head stones
One skull, two skull, red skull, your skull
Be careful if you try to strike my skull, indulge
Turning
red kite, silver birch trees
White lies while I plead
Write lines while I bleed
I speak yellow
I speak yellow
I speak yellow
I speak
I see yellow
I see
night
In the rare light of seven flowers
It belongs to lovers, to lovers
It belongs to lovers
End of August
A barn sun-faded red
A smell of soot
a high spot, and look!
Tam-ta-tiki-taka-tuc
Royal agarics, honey agarics
Girolles and russula
Birch mushrooms and red boleti
Guys, I'm a real mushroom
The thin slip of moon through the shade was lost on sleeping eyes seeing smoke rise up through the birch and pine, where a sinking red sun found us,
They wus on the ground.
They wouldn't gimme no peace...
So I run down most hurriedly
And joined up with the John Birch Society,
I got me a secret
They was on the ground
They wouldn't gimme no peace
So I run down most hurriedly
And joined up with the John Birch Society
I got me a secret
a birch brow in late spring
And two girls that look like you gather berries and baskets
Hunched over like young animals, grazing
With their red dressed
This song really should be prefaced
With the observation of
A newspaper editor I met once he said
"The John Birch Society really should be
Called
And a quarry that looks like a church
And falling stones echo
Flat slap and scratch
With the silver moons of the birch
And watching the hawks on a hidden
a beggars belief
To just get up and leave
Turn the red light to green
But they're few and far between
I'm a key without its tone
I'm a child without a home
Ogham The Blade
Anrad we have stripped the birch,
to supplant with branch of steel.
Cold sun spurge, the spark extinguished,
score another notch
of morning
But a birch canoe with paddles
Rising, sinking in the sunshine
Dripping, flashing in the sunshine
And within it came a people
Can it be the sun
the shining mist of morning,
But a birch canoe with paddles,
Rising, sinking on the water,
Dripping, flashing in the sunshine;
And within it came a people
from the Torah
Six from the Torah
Birch with the soda
Promethazine, Luke got the red
Big drippin in, pray for the dead
Got triple ten, rack is a trap
""Before us great Death stands
Our fate held close within his quiet hands.
When with proud joy we lift Life's red wine
To drink deep of the mystic
If I asked real sweet, would you take a ride with me?
Drive down streets that no one else has ever seen
Red bucket seats with a stereo from 1953
I
I've got warm blood and the sun's energy
Dig into the earth like a big birch tree
Reach into the moon as it reaches for me
(I'm offline)
I don't want
flap)
Canker upon canker upon one million tiny punctures
That look like...
Long thin red ribbons draped across the arms of a lil mortal girl
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