Grey skies
Winds of abandoned summers
Blackbirds fly
Listen
Almost can you hear your influence
Yes that’s right, it is, it's Ummagumma
Me oh my
To walk all those miles
With no apparent purpose
Why oh why
Other than
To go from over here, to over there
Oh you romantics, you capture the roses
The Picardy, the smoke and the fuelled flames
Yes, you sure rubbed the carborundum
You, with your pretty curls; all the girls
Go, oh my oh my , he looked at me
And I just melted
Overnight, last night, the rains came
To water the gardens
To grow the green beans
To walk all those miles, now
Well almost, though apparently
That was your purpose for which we say thank you
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