melancholy is my narcotic
here is something by "the decemberists"...
eli the barrel boy, in the old town
sells coal and marigolds and he cries out
all down the day
below the tamarack, she is crying
corn cobs and candle wax for the buying
all down the dayi would i could afford to buy my love a fine robe
made of gold & silver arabian thread
but she is dead and gone and lieing in a pine grove
and i must push my barrel all the day
and i must push my barrel all the day
eli the barrel boy, when they found him
dressed all in corduroy, he had drowned in
the river down the way
they laid his body down in a church yard
but still when the moon is out with his pushcart
he calls down the dayi would i could afford to buy my love a fine gown
made of gold & silver arabian thread
but i am dead and gone and lieing in a church ground
and i still push my barrel all the day
still i push my barrel all the day
* * * * *
even death does not release poor eli from his lonesome drudgery.
there is a lesson here.
eli the barrel boy, in the old town
sells coal and marigolds and he cries out
all down the day
below the tamarack, she is crying
corn cobs and candle wax for the buying
all down the dayi would i could afford to buy my love a fine robe
made of gold & silver arabian thread
but she is dead and gone and lieing in a pine grove
and i must push my barrel all the day
and i must push my barrel all the day
eli the barrel boy, when they found him
dressed all in corduroy, he had drowned in
the river down the way
they laid his body down in a church yard
but still when the moon is out with his pushcart
he calls down the dayi would i could afford to buy my love a fine gown
made of gold & silver arabian thread
but i am dead and gone and lieing in a church ground
and i still push my barrel all the day
still i push my barrel all the day
* * * * *
even death does not release poor eli from his lonesome drudgery.
there is a lesson here.