Lyrics:
on a ladder and brush
The artist with the easel
The fiddler always snaps the string and
Pop! Goes the weasel
Pop! Goes the weasel
Pop! Goes the weasel
There are no lyrics to this track. It is intentionally blank, with each of the 71 seconds representing one of the years that the artist's father,
Wind on the weathervane
Tearing blue eyes sailor-mean
As Falstaff sings a sorrowful refrain
For a boy in Fiddler's Green
His tiny knotted heart
Your next favourite artist (Artist , Artist , Artist)
You're my favourite artist (Artist)
Wind on the weathervane
Tearing blue eyes sailor-mean
As Falstaff sings a sorrowful refrain
For a boy in Fiddler's Green
His tiny knotted heart
medication
We'll have more on this story as it develops"
"Shady Records recording artist Obie Trice
Has apparently survived a gunshot to the head
In what
takin a trip mates
I'll see you someday in Fiddler's Green
Oh in Fiddler's Green is a place I've heard tell
Where sailormen go if they don't go
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
And I'll see you someday on Fiddlers Green
Now Fiddler's Green is a place I've heard tell
Where the fishermen go if they don't go to hell
Where the sky is
Good artists copy great artists steal
introduced the oceans to the earth
Well whoever made the snowflakes
Made shadows where doubts lurk
I suspect an artist is at work
I know when an artist
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