Lyrics Frowning Atahuallpa (My Inca Love) - Mono Version - T. Rex

Sitting all alone, looking at the throne of the one I used to love
Sitting all alone, looking in a stone of my lovely Inca love
Oh, ladagun, ladagun, ladagun, ladagun, lagu
Gun, ladagun, ladagun, ladagun, ladagun, lagu
The huntress stands,
With peacock hands she'd take me to where she sighs
She sighs so deep, it rocks the river of her stomach sky
Oh, ladagun, ladagun, ladagun, ladagun, lagu
Gun, ladagun, ladagun, ladagun, ladagun, lagu
Ata, Atahuallpa, Atahuallpa, Atahuallpa, uallpa, uallpa, yeah
The oval moon, it tans the faun who holds grapes for my love
Sitting all alone, sitting in the throne of my lovely Inca love
Tchak-tchun tchak-tchun tchak-tchun tchak-tchun
Oh, ladagun, ladagun, ladagun, ladagun, lagu
Gun, ladagun, ladagun, ladagun, ladagun, lagu
Ata, Atahuallpa, Atahuallpa, Atahuallpa, uallpa, uallpa
Ata, Atahuallpa, Atahuallpa, Atahuallpa, uallpa, uallpa
Hare, hare krishna, hare krishna, krishna krishna
Hare, hare krishna, hare krishna, krishna krishna
Hare, hare hela, hare krishna, krishna krishna
Hare, hare krishna, hare krishna, krishna krishna
Hare, hare krishna, hare krishna, krishna krishna
Hare, hare krishna, hare krishna, krishna krishna
Hare, hare hela, hare krishna, krishna krishna
Hare, hare krishna, hare krishna, krishna krishna
Hare, hare krishna, hare krishna, krishna krishna
Hare, hare krishna, hare krishna, krishna krishna
Hare, hare krishna, hare krishna, krishna krishna
Hare, hare krishna, hare krishna, krishna krishna, uh
Kingsley Mole sat high on a windy knoll,
His eyes consuming the silent midnight woods.
He nuzzled his long molish snout deep inside the heart of a marigold
And let his molish imagination skip to and fro over sunken galleons
And pirate pictures of rusted doubloons and deep-water cabins stacked
To the brim with musty muskets and
Goldfish gauntlets once worn by Henry Morgan
The lark awoke and doffed its plumed three cornered hat to its own
Sleepy-eyed reflection,
Then it hopped past the crested nest of the snoring cuckoo
And flew off into the Lionel Lark morning looking for friend Mole
Mole was on a marigold comedown and sulkily
Scraped bluebeat rhythms with his ground-digging paw
"Yes," he whispered,
"Me and Li are going aquesting for the Lilly Pond of Fox Necks."
Li'll know all the mapping gen[??], so the mole,
Kneeling on the soft soil, said a morning prayer to Ra,
Not even caring if he dirtied his yellow Rupert
Trousers because his molish mind knew that praying was special
I come from a time where the burning of trees was a crime
I lived by a sea where to be was a thing of true joy
My people were fair and had sky in their hair
But now they're content to wear stars on their brows