Cloudy The sky is gray and white and cloudy Sometimes I think it's hanging down on me And it's a hitchhike a hundred miles I'm a raga-muffin child Pointed finger-painted smile I left my shadow waiting down the road for me a while
Cloudy My thoughts are scattered and they're cloudy They have no boreders, no boundaries They echo and they swell From Tolstoi to Tinkerbell Down from Berkeley to Carmel Got some pictures in my pocket and a lot of time to kill
Hey sunshine I haven't seen you in a long time Why don't you show your face and bend my mind? These clouds stick to the sky Like a floating question why And they linger there to die They don't know where they are going, and, my friend, neither do I