Behind the Sea

Our daydream spills from my gold head

Breaks free of my wooden neck

Left a nod over sleeping waves

Like bobbing bait for bathing cod

Floating flocks of candle swans

Slowly drift across wax ponds

The men all played along to marching drums

And boy did they have fun behind the sea

They sang, 'So our matching legs are marching clocks

And we?re all too small to talk to God

Yes, we?re all too smart to talk to God'

Toast the fine folks casting silver crumbs

To us from the dock

Jinxed things ringing as they leak

Through tiny cracks in the boardwalk

Scarecrow now it?s time to hatch

Sprouting sons and ageless daughters

Don't you know, don't you know

That those watermelon smiles just can?t ripen underwater

Just can?t ripen underwater

The men all played along to marching drums

And boy did they have fun behind the sea

They sang, 'So our matching legs are marching clocks

And we?re all too small to talk to God

Yeah, we?re all too smart to talk to God

Oh, we?re all too smart to talk to God'

Oh, waves of wooden legs, waves of wooden legs

Waves of wooden legs

Waves of wooden legs, waves of wooden legs

Waves of wooden legs

Waves of wooden legs, waves of wooden legs

Waves of wooden legs

Waves of wooden legs, waves of wooden legs

Waves of wooden legs