Текст песни Stacey Grove (Live) - Tyrannosaurus Rex
Stacey
Grove
he′s
a
roaming
prophet
of
mine
Hat
full
of
wine
Stacey
Grove
he's
a
roving
catcher
of
skies
Forecaster
of
eyes,
so
no
lies
Dungaree
dome
is
decked
like
a
pagan
temple
to
Zeus
He
drinks
acorn
juice
Roasting
his
feet
by
the
furnace
of
peat
He
roars
at
the
boars
who
massively
sleep
at
his
feet
Antelope
head
his
beard
skylark
red
Is
tucked
′neath
the
good
of
his
summer
sun
hood
And
now
that
the
gate
of
his
evening
is
late
He
sits
on
a
log
picking
ticks
off
the
back
of
his
dog
Oh
he's
a
nice
cat
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